In a church of my own we're perfect together I recognize you in the stained glass.

I've got this crazy dream of stripping down to truth and bone.

You're the drug that works.

I don't think I can breathe now with you gone.

And when somebody knows you well, well there's no comfort like that. And when somebody needs you, well there's no drug like that.

Nothing falls like London Rain Nothing heals me like you do

I keep going back as if I'm looking for something I have lost. Back to the motherland, sisterland, fatherland. Back to the beacon, the breast, the smell and taste of the breeze, and the singing of the rain.