The rain falls down like a melody of our past mistakes.
The lights in the night shine ever so tirelessy in our eyes.
If we took back the hands of time we'd find ourselves reflecting on lies.
If we really buried them then why didn't they fade?

The blood dropped on the roses that once reflected faith.
But they were poisoned by traitory and destroyed by hate.
If our hope is strength then why did it so easily taint?
The sense of death in our words are well known but faint.

Ruined with no purpose now is our hearts and our souls.
The darkness and the lies took a massive toll.
Though were they not to exist, life would be extremely dull.
If we really felt happiness we'd be taken a fool.

The drifting memories fell from our hearts like a leaf from a tree.
And every burden we felt weighed down on our very being.
But the one thing remained, not unknown or unseen.
The melody of pain and the rain that made us dream.