There's an orchestra in the gutter,
And one throbbing up above,
It's rippling through the valley
like the rage that came before.
At breakneck speed the silver rush,
For the glamour and the gorgeous,
Were peeling back their chords
apart, in this masterpiece of love.
And through the roll,
And through the rush,
Is the friend I once had,
chasing thunderstorms
for ever and for good.
We chase the fear
we chased before,
We chase the
streetlamp
kiss.
And through the light
of ancient streets,
We watch the wall
of rain crash down
and penetrate
the ground
we stand
on.
We see a father who
holds his son.
We watch the night
roll past.