I step off the train, I'm walking down your again, past your door, but you don't live there anymore. It's years since you've been there. Now you've disappeared somewhere like outer space, you've found some better place, I miss you - like the deserts miss the rain. you be dead? You always were two ahead of everyone. We'd walk behind while you would run. I look at your house, and I can almost hear you shout down to me where I always used to be, and miss you - like the deserts miss the rain. Back on the I ask why did I come again. Can I confess I've hanging around your old address? And the years have proven to offer nothing since you moved. You're long gone but I move on, and I miss you - like the deserts miss the rain