I am walking
  out in the rain
  and I am listening to the low moan
  of the dial tone again
  and I am getting
  nowhere with you
  and I can't let it go
  and I can't get through...
  the old woman behind the pink curtains
  and the closed door
  on the first floor
  she's listening through the air shaft
  to see how long our swan song can last
  and both hands
  now use both hands
  oh, no don't close your eyes
  I am writing
  graffitti on your body
  I am drawing the story of
  how hard we tried
  I am watching your chest rise and fall
  like the tides of my life,
  and the rest of it all
  and your bones have been my bedframe
  and your flesh has been my pillow
  I am waiting for sleep
  to offer up the deep
  with both hands
  in eachother's shadows we grew less and less tall
  and eventually our theories couldn't explain it all
  and I'm recording our history now on the bedroom wall
  and eventually the landlord will come
  and paint over it all
  and I am walking
  out in the rain
  and I am listening to the low moan of the dial tone again
  and I am getting nowhere with you
  and I can't let it go
  and I can't get though
  So now use both hands
  please use both hands
  oh, no don't close your eyes
  I am writing graffitti on your body
  I am drawing the story of how hard we tried
  hard we tried
  how hard we tried