| G | C/G | G |
| I hear the | drizzle of the | rain |
| Am | Am/G | C | G/B | Bm/F# |
| Like a | memo | ry i | t | falls |
| G | Bm/F# | G | C |
| Soft and | warm cont | inu | ing |
| Am | Asus2/G | D | G |
| Tapping | on my | roof and | walls |
| G | C/G | G |
| And from the | shelter of my | mind |
| Am | Am/G | C | G/B | Bm/F# |
| Through the | window | of m | y | eyes |
| G | Bm/F# | G | C |
| I | gaze be | yond the | rain-drenched | streets |
| Am | D | G |
| To E | ngland, | where my h | eart lies |
| G | C/G | G |
| My mind’s dis | tracted and diffu | sed |
| Am | Am/G | C | G/B | Bm/F# |
| My thoughts are m | any | miles | a | way |
| G | Bm/F# | G | C |
| They l | ie with | you when | you’re a | sleep |
| Am | Asus2/G | D | G |
| And k | iss you | when you | start your | day |
| G | C/G | G |
| And a s | ong I was | writing is left un | done |
| Am | Am/G | C | G/B | Bm/F# |
| I don’t know | why I | spend m | y | time |
| G | Bm/F# | G | C |
| Writing | songs I | can’t be | lieve |
| Am | Asus2/G | D | G |
| With w | ords that | tear and | strain to | rhyme |
| G | C/G | G |
| And so you | see, I have come to | doubt |
| Am | Am/G | C | G/B | Bm/F# |
| All that | I once | held a | s | true |
| G | Bm/F# | G | C |
| I stand a | lone with | out be | liefs |
| Am | Asus2/G | D | G |
| The o | nly | truth I | know is | you |
| G | C/G | G |
| And as I | watch the drops of | rain |
| Am | Am/G | C | G/B | Bm/F# |
| Weave their | weary | paths a | nd | die |
| G | Bm/F# | G | C |
| I | know that | I am | like the | rain |
| Am | Asus2/G | D | G |
| There but f | or the grace of | you go | I |