MYTH: Side One - HEAVY RAIN ON HOT TIN ROOFS

When we first met
We recognized each other immediately

Two frightened & hiding-it 20-somethings
Travelling alone in the off-season
Both Visibly Lost
Both Running

In retrospect, it was inevitable

How we tangled ourselves in each other
Splicing our frayed ends
We were young and high
Clumsy and fumbling
And we conspired late into the night
Whispering like twins up past bedtime

Singing songs for each other
From out battered
Water-Damaged songbooks

Explaining ourselves, I suppose
In the only way we knew how

We made plans to travel
To New Delhi together in the morning
And from there to Nepal
Or anywhere really

And I fell asleep listening to your breathing
And the sound of heavy rain
On hot tin roofs
Like typewriters drafting a message home

I'm okay
I'm safe
I love you
And I am never, ever coming back

"Who are you?" the stranger asked
He leaned in closer, but he wasn't listening

When I woke up, you were gone
I never saw you again
I went to New Delhi alone
I thought about travelling onward to Nepal
But, you know, I am embarrassed to say
That in the end
I just spent the rest of my money
On a ticket home

I do wonder
Sometimes
If I might have done the same thing
If I'd woken up first I mean

Taken the cash in your wallet
Gotten dressed in the hallway
Taken your songbook instead of mine
In the rush and the hurry

In another universe
Not too far from this one
Maybe I'm still out there
Still lost
Still running

Tonight the rain on St Sasha
Is falling like it did in Japur
And I lie awake
Listening to the sound of my own breathing

The typewriters clacking out
Reams of nonsense
To no one in partuicular