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Time is running out darlingAhead of us lie cops and roadblocks and dry counties and the end of summerFurther on it's bills and then old age and a list and litany of hospital visitsAnd then our faces will go slack and weatheredUntil one day we look in the mirror and don't recognsie ourselves anymoreAnd it's then we'll know and accept that the game has a startAnd a middleAnd an endBut for now we're young and we're alive and our eyes are clearThe desert wind blows and the sun shines down and the storm clouds gatherAnd we're standing on hard cement grounded and calm while the numbers roll forwardAnd oh how they roll forwardThere's a skull behind your faceBut you'll riseI know you're tired tonightBut you'll riseJust when you think it's too lateYou'll stand right upAnd you'll riseAnd so the storm rolls in from out past the sun-baked housing rows and trailerparks and oil palaces and cattle fieldsAnd now the rain moves in sheets and sadie and christian and I sit in the motel room with the door open and watch the skySadie gets up and yawns and pads across the carpet to grab a beer from the mini fridgeHer sister's out in the balcony walkway that stretches around the front of the building taking pictures of the storm"hey frances" she says and frances turns around and waves her camera and gives a tired smileSongtexteLightning on the horizonThe power cutting out and then the room is dark and everyone gaspsAnd then someone laughs in the next room and pretty soon the whole motel's out and the walkway and they're sharing cigarettes at the railingHappy and open facedFlushed at the suddenness of a changing worldAnd now we're all the sameNow everything is good because everything is newIt's electricity in a charging skyThe sound of rain on parked cars in the lotStoplights are deadAnd in the motel lights flicker back on and life is a drag againAnd nothing is good and newAnd everyone heads back inside to lie in bed and look at the tv until they sleepBut frances and I stay out on the walkway and I close my eyesAnd breathe in the smell of the stormThe richness of earth changingOf dry things losing their dust and hard shellThe city is quiet except for the wind and the rainAnd then thunder cracks with a great clash and rolls in a deep low rumble and the walkway shakesAnd Frances leans into me and grabs my arm for a quick secondThen steps back and snaps a photo of the swirling black skyAnd looks serious and young and braveI head back inside as the wind knocks over a pool chair and rolls it across the cement and into the water Aus Songtexte Mania