Song Description

Sometimes, it doesn't mean anything.

Lyrics

A man sits at his windowsill, waiting for the drops to come
Watches them and thinks of birth and baptism and death.
Then he holds out his meager hand. ?There?s power in the rain,? he says,
Then catches all the angel?s tears, and realizes it?s just water after all.

He waits for all the books he?s read to conjure up an afterthought
Then differing opinions make him think he?s done his job.
But he doesn?t bother writing. He just keeps on thinking through it
And concludes no one will bother reading what he has to say after all.

There?s an entrance and an exit, but its intentions are lost
In a seascape painting that no one wants to buy. But who would pay?
Who would pay?

?It?s searching in the rain for me,? he mumbles to himself so low
Then realizes how strange this sounds and wishes he weren?t there.
?There?s power in the rain,? he says, as if it were his chorus.
He tries to feign conviction, but he knows that it?s just lying after all.

It?s simple and it?s true; to me at least, in my language.
There?s power in the rain given proper context
But that doesn?t mean a thing after all.