rain on my shoes

the soft, sullen grey of the light

too soon and too heavily subsides

to darken this tangle of trusted, old-fangled decay

this england of mumbling men

of good old us-and-them

wears mud as her gown from the tweed to the frown of mounts bay

and god knows this blessed plot

won't shine like his crucible pot

so how sad but how sweet

to find i still need this rain on my shoes

the memory is burned on my skin

of the california day easing in

where untroubled smiles tell of boundless miles of sun

as lightly as harmony rings

so faith can wear gossamer wings

but tug at old glory and pro patria mori they'll run

and none envies them more

than we short-lost cousins-in-law

so how strange if how sweet

to find i still need this rain on my shoes

like twins these worlds collide

their hearts invisibly tied

the new and the old each a part of a whole and yet two

give me the nerve, give me a reason to choose

show me i'll gain something more than i'll lose

though in the end what can a friend say but ‘to thine own self be true’?

seek gold in the mud if you will

but i dream of america still

so how hard if how sweet

to find i still need this rain on my shoes

written by tom yates 11 jan 03

tom yates – vocals, guitars, piano
steve parker – bass
rob kenny – drums