This city is an airport for lonely hearts,
and I’m flying in tonight.
This city is a station for broken dreamers,
oh baby here comes the train.
This river overflows with the tears of love,
or tears of love in vain.
Oh, who’d expect it now, it’s starting to rain,
rain, rain baby rain and

Rain baby rain, rain on my parade.
I really don’t feel like marching today.
Rain baby rain, rain as hard as you can.
Let the rain wash away
this broken-promised land.

This city cries for mercy,
but forgets how to laugh.
Now what’s so funny about that?
This city doesn’t sleep,
but it’s never awake. No wonder it’s tired.
This river was a river of life and love,
but now it’s barren and dry.
Oh, here we go again. It’s starting to rain,
rain, rain baby rain.

Rain baby rain, rain on my parade.
I really don’t feel like marching today.
Rain baby rain, rain as hard as you can.
Let the rain wash away
this broken-promised land.

And if I had a penny for every tear
I’ve used to wash these streets,
I’d buy more guitars.
And if I need a few more bucks
I could always go back to 1983
and stand in front of the Gem Spa,
and play for change,
or sell umbrellas at Penn Station,
but I’d still need the rain.

This city was a carnival when we lived here,
but now you’re nine states away.
This city used to shine like the midnight sun,
now all the lights have gone out.
This city looks for lovers,
but forgets about friends.
Only the rain is my friend.

Rain baby rain, rain on my parade.
I really don’t feel like marching today.
Rain baby rain, rain as hard as you can.
Let the rain wash away
this broken-promised land.

Let the rain wash away
this broken-promised land.