The clouds that gathered turned to rain. The candles on your sill burned out. The weather on your face. Turned to match the mood outside. Reading through poems that you saved. That make the gloomy hours make sense. Or do they lose their power. With the yellowing of age. I saw you suffering. Through a foggy window in the rain. When you thought no one was watching yeah. Going through your memories. Like so many prisons to escape. And become someone else. With another face. And another name. No more suffering. You sold the best of yourself out. On a chain of grey and white lies. One syllable at a time. You should have made them pay. A higher price. I saw you suffering. Through the cracked and dirty window pane. I was ashamed that I was watching yeah. Going through your imagination. Looking for a life you could create. And become somebody else yeah. With another face. With another name. No more suffering. I wish that I could find a seed. And plant a tree that grows so high. So that I could climb. And harvest the ripe stars. For you and I to drink. And spit the ashes from our mouths. And put the grey back in the clouds. And send them packing with our bags. Of old regrets and sorrows. 'Cause they don't do a thing but drag us down. So far down. The past is like a braided rope. Each moment tightly coiled inside. I saw you suffering. Through the yellow window of a train. With everybody watching yeah. Too tired for imagining. That you could ever love somebody else. From somewhere far away. From another time. And another place. With another life. And another face. And another name. And another name. No more suffering