I've been counting crows again
And no one wants my name
The blue motel goes ghostly as she fades
Into the gray of the saturday rain
I'm a war zone--
If you lose me, you can find me,
I'll be dancing down the shingles.
My rooftop's always free from prying eyes
And the leaves will collect your little white lies my friend
So follow me down the river
With no shame
Follow me down.

Bitter spectres beckon: 'let it rain.
Why don't you turn, weary traveler?
Why don't you fly?
Why don't you fall?'
The brown and yellow leaves are all
They coast down dreamy breezes
And tremble in their dancing as much as we.
It's a war zone; terrible turning journey
Of a deathwish down

And there, along the river's path we follow:
Pagan rain-kids with nowhere else to go
Let it furrow
Let it follow
Follow me down.