Behind the ears, he’s wet as cloudy skies
Over the years, I’ve aged as much as wine
Now the end is here, and nowhere I can hide

I look at rain and see if I can find
Enough to praise of people, work, and life
He looks at rain as a new way to die

She likes to drive but there’s no weather
She likes to fly but there’s no weather
She likes the sky but there’s no weather
She likes the night but there’s no weather
at home

Behind his eyes there’s not a lot to know
Except our demise and a book’s antidote
Behind his eyes there’s not a lot to know

Since we arrived the only place to go
is stay inside where strangers aren’t home
Since we arrived, there’s nowhere I can go

She likes to drive but there’s no weather
She likes to fly but there’s no weather
She likes the sky but there’s no weather
She likes the night but there’s no weather
at home

No Weather by theamericanbookofthedead

mp3 link: No Weather