When you know the day is ending all too soon? 
You're just two umbrellas one late afternoon? 
You never know what you will say? 
This is your favorite kind of day? 
It has no walls, the beauty of the rain? 
Is how it falls, how it falls, how it falls? 

And there's nothing wrong but there is something more? 
And sometimes you wonder what you love her for? 
She says you've known her deepest fears? 
'Cause she showed you a box of stained-glass tears? 
It can't be all, the truth about the rain? 
Is how it falls, how it falls, how it falls? 

But when she gave you more to find? 
You let her think she'd lost her mind? 
And that's all on you? 
Feeling helpless if she asked for help? 
Or scared you'd have to change yourself? 

And you can't deny this room will keep you warm? 
You can look out of your window at the storm? 
But you watch the phone and hope it rings? 
You'll take her any way she sings? 
Or how she calls, the beauty of the rain? 
Is how it falls, how it falls, how it falls? 
How it falls, how it falls, how it falls?