I step off the train, IВґm walking down your street again , and past your door, but you donВґt live there any more. ItВґs years since youВґve been there. Now youВґve desappeared somewhere like outer space, youВґve 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. WeВґd walk behind while you would run. I look up at your house, and 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 I come again? Can I confess IВґve been hanging round your old adress? and the years have proved to offer nothing sinced you moved. YouВґre long gone but I canВґt move on, and I miss you - like the deserts miss the rain.