| Now it’s time to wrap our fears in the night |
| And on the first day I’ll dress this city in flames |
| After the things you say |
| You hate me for being this way |
| Still you won’t let go of old ideals |
| There is no headline to read at night |
| When the record skips and you’re not holding the needle |
| We all sing the songs of separation |
| And we watch our lives bleed out through our hands |
| Thats how it was on the first day |
| When WE saw Paris in Flames |
| rain rain down |
| I think it’s gonna rain, rain down |
| I think it’s gonna rain, rain down |
| I think it’s gonna rain |
| I think it’s gonna rain, rain down |
| I think it’s gonna rain, rain down |
| I think it’s gonna rain |
| Here in this collapsed lung of a borough |
| There is no sunlight |
| The sunlight is manufactured in a windowless room |
| Distant and incoherent |
| Businessmen hang themselves |
| We all sing the songs of seperation |
| and we watch our lives bleed out through our hands |
| that’s how it was on the first day |
| when we saw Paris in flames |
| The lower side is a jukebox playing the deadman’s crescendo |
| The needle is a vector |
| An intersection that we all must cross |
| A dimly lit hallway where shadows of moths decorate the walls |
| Discard this message, discard this message, discard this message |
| Burn your city down |
| Discard this message |
| Throw this bottle back in the ocean |
| Rip this page from the history books |
| Smash all the street signs |
| Erase all the maps |
| Forget my name |
| Forget my face |
| Forget my name |
| Because it’s gonna rain, it’s gonna rain |
| and it never ends |
| We all sing the songs of separation |
| (Rain Rain Down, I think its gonna rain rain down) |
| and we watch our lives bleed out through our hands |
| (I think its gonna rain rain down, I think its gonna rain) |
| that’s how it was on the first day |
| (Rain Rain Down, I think its gonna rain rain down) |
| when we saw Paris in flames |
| (I think its gonna rain rain down, I think its gonna rain) |