How it goes.

Still,
I think of you, baby
And how I grew old with you then.
And this summer, you'll call- maybe
And act as if we were old friends.
You'd say, 'How are you, baby?',
I'd say, 'It's raining in Athens.'

It's raining in Athens...

And to this day
I nurse the fever
That spoiled my poor heart.
And I've mastered the art of dealing,
Slipping away without falling apart.
So when this summer, you call- maybe
And ask how I've been,
I can be honest and answer plainly,
'Since November, it's been raining.'

It's raining in Athens...


-Azure Ray