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My brother calls me—he’s sick, lying on the floor of some stranger’s bathroom, howling, clawing at the door. I should have known by the look on your face, by that lonesome smile and the friends that you embrace. Oh, the rains keep coming, pouring down upon us. And the winds, they whine, blowing us over again. Every step seems a mistake. Now Jenny shows up and she tells me what she’s done: she has run off, and she has left her one true love. Her days so quiet and her future so secure, a ring on her finger—she was bored. Oh, the rains keep coming, pouring down upon us. And the winds, they whine. No, we cannot hide, just wipe the tears from our eyes. There’s a calm that you fake as you move through your day. Oh, you hold your head up high and you speak as though the night doesn’t cause you any pain. No one suspects any blame or that blood on your wrist or that fallen angel’s kiss. Your mind comes undone so easily by anyone and you blame it on your youth, you tell yourself you will improve in time. You know it’s a lie. The rains keep coming, pouring down upon us. And the winds, they whine. Don’t ask why when your life passes you by.