Written by: David Byrne

Drenched leaves suck their last on the wet pavement
And I try to feel if my new boots are leaking
I like the rain pounding on my umbrella
My shoulders hunched, dragging my thoughts 
The air is dank, the grey above, reflected city colours below
A tune fills my head, adrenalin fills my chest
I like this twilight, somewhere above the waxing moon
Imminent night