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When it first began In the light of sacred things And you felt oblivious to any sort of pain When it first began to rain Then there came the steady flow Slowly like a flood Sweeping over everything and turning into mud Why? Is there nothing sacred left, nothing to hold on to? Is there no way to make it up, nothing that you can do? You believe what you want to believe Not so long ago It was as perfect as the snow You can never know what things May come to spoil your dreams And to hurt you as they have Do you hear the rain So insistent on the windowpane? A reminder of a night when everything was changed Why? Is there nothing sacred left, nothing to hold on to? Is there no way to make it up, nothing that you can do? You believe what you want to believe When the light of morning comes You see the damage done And you know how many things May never be the same There you will remain In the ruin after the rain "the ruin after the rain" Sunday, may 12, 1996