In the town of the righteous and the honest, I was an outcast.

The rain poured down, but it couldn't save your soul.
I substituted tears for dew, but it still had no effect on you.
You're as cold as that memory of the night we planned our escape.
I guess reality was quicker than our ambitions.

I can't stay and watch us die, so consider this my last goodbye.
You'll remain the boy who caught the music on a fishing hook,
And I'll just be the girl who sang of hazy daisies.

Somewhere in a land much better than this, a white dove sits atop a willow tree,
And that is all there is.