At The End Of The Rainbow - Cowboy Junkies

Again at the end of the rainbow.

Again no gold to be found.

Just this cold unmade bed,

the last three words you said

and this buzzing along the telephone line.

Paris?

Well, there’s fog on the Seine

and Amsterdam still courses through my veins.

All these dark gray facades

wouldn’t be so bad

if I could just taste your breath once again.

Honey, I saw your daddy

lying by the roadside

his feet sticking out of a sack.

Honey, they’ll be calling

to tell you that your daddy

never will be coming back.

Again at the end of the rainbow.

Again no words to be found.

Just this voice, sad and alone,

me, wishing I was home

and this silence along the telephone line.