I sit here in this rain,
Thinking of you.
But no matter how long I wait on this bench,
You will never meet me here.
I’ve got on my best dress, my cane,
Even that old bowler hat you always liked,
And I wait at the bench where we first met.
But you will never meet me here again.
I lean on my cane in front of me,
Thinking of you,
With a fresh cut rose,
As red as love,
I can’t help but pray for your return,
And wish on every star I see,
Though I know such a thing is impossible.
By god how I love you,
By god how I miss you,
By god how pathetic I am.