I step off the train,
I'm walking down your street again,
and past your door,
but you don't live there anymore.

It's years since you've been there.
Now you've disappeared somewhere
like outer space,
you've found some better place,

and I miss you
like the deserts miss the rain.

Could you be dead?
You always were two steps ahead
of everyone.
We'd walk behind while you [bad word] 

I look up at your house,
and I can almost hear you shout
down to me
where I always used to be,

and I miss you
like the deserts miss the rain.

Back on the train,
I ask why did [bad word] again.
Can I confess
I've been hanging around your old address?

And the years have proved
to offer nothing since you moved.
You're long gone
but I can't move on,

and I miss you
like the deserts miss the rain

I step off the train,
I'm walking down your street again,
and past your door,
I guess you don't live there anymore.

It's years since you've been there.
Now you've disappeared somewhere
like outer space,
you've found some better place,

and I miss you
like the deserts miss the rain

and I miss you
like the deserts miss the rain