I'm waiting for the rain to fall
And wash away my memories of you,
But the grey-blue clouds pass me by
Just like they always seem to do.

For the thousandth time I'm standing,
In my dust-covered gown,
Hoping the rain will come and cleanse me
Or that it will just let me drown.

Once again, you ripped my dress to pieces,
Just like you tore my heart.
Why I let you get to me again, I'm not sure
But you always said I wasn't that smart.

I don't know what I'll do without you.
I loathed you, but I loved you, too.
And even all the dusty, rusty blood
Won't let me hang on to what cannot be true.

So instead, I hang on to my butcher's knife,
With its rusty, dusty, bloody blade
And watch the grey-blue clouds pass me by
As I let my hope and my life slowly start to fade.

Daphne