One day when we’re older, this might come clear.
Looking over my shoulder when nothing’s there at all.
I made mountains of molehills and lingered in them for hours.
And when the moment was over, I tried to find a universe so small.
(A universe so small)

Sometimes I don’t know who I am now.
Sometimes I hardly know my name.
I’ve got an eye to the future and an ear to the ground now,
But baby, men like me are mostly made of rain.
I am the rain.

We walked on the rooftops, and saw the people below us.
And thinking they were alone there, they laid their conscience clean.
Not wanting to eavesdrop, we shuffled into the shadows.
And climbing down from the top, I saw windows like a thousand eyes at night.
Their eyes were full of light.

Sometimes I don’t know who I am now.
Sometimes I hardly know my name.
I’ve got an eye to the future and an ear to the ground now,
But baby, men like me are mostly made of rain.
I am the rain.

When I wake, I will turn to face the sun.
When I wake up, I will turn to face the sun.
_{(wake up)} When I _{(wake up)} wake, _(someday) I will _(maybe) turn to face the sun.
_{(wake up)} When I _{(wake up)} wake up, _(someday) I will _{(someday I will wake)} turn to face it.