[Lyric] After Us (Connie Wanek)

I don't know if we're in the beginning
Or in the final stage
-- Tomas Tranströmer

Rain is falling through the roof
And all that prospered under the sun
The books that opened in the morning
And closed at night, and all day
Turned their pages to the light;

The sketches of boats and strong forearms
And clever faces, and of fields
And barns, and of a bowl of eggs
And lying across the piano
The silver stick of a flute; everything

Invented and imagined
Everything whispered and sung
All silenced by cold rain

The sky is the color of gravestones
The rain tastes like salt, and rises
In the streets like a ruinous tide
We spoke of millions, of billions of years
We talked and talked
Then a drop of rain fell
Into the sound hole of the guitar, another
Onto the unmade bed. And after us
The rain will cease or it will go on falling
Even upon itself