Into each life a little rain must fall 
We welcome it and yet shelter from it 
As though this, the most precious gift of all 
Were poison in an apple that we bit  

We treat the rain the same as we treat love  
We hope for it, we welcome it, and yet  
When it arrives like a gift from above 
We're scared of it and run from it and fret

And wonder if this one we met will feel 
The chill of like or thrill of lust, and hope 
That with this one it could at last be real 
That this one we met could at last be dope 

  But as with the rain that quickly passes 
  We quickly learn that lovers are asses