Wet asphalt breathing in the quiet chill, Distant thunder fading off the hill, I close my coat against the heavy damp, Mirror puddles by the streetlamp. A single drop rolls down my freezing sleeve, Giving me a reason to believe. Clouds are tearing open at the seam, Every sidewalk waking from a dream, Look up, the ceiling of the dark gives way, A spark of gold is cutting through the gray! Washed the pavement clean, watch the amber ignite, A sudden prism in the air, breaking through the dying night! Every shadow turns to gold, we are stepping in the clear, Count the colors in the sky, our lucky day is here! Yeah! Windows shining like a million eyes, Catching fire as the shadows die, Petrichor rises from the crowded square, Electric static in the warming air. No umbrella dragging on the floor, I am not looking backward anymore. The architecture of the storm is gone, Every shattered piece is turning on, Brace for the blinding light that floods the frame, The sky is calling out a different name! Washed the city wide, see the spectrum expand, Seven ribbons burning bright across the palm of the land! Cast the heavy coat aside, breathe the morning without fear, The arch is bending down to say, our lucky turn is here! Oh, right here! Cold rain tried to drown the spark, Oh, it only taught the light to bend, Shattered into ribbons in the dark, Now the long eclipse has met its end! Washed the heavens pure, blazing violet and gold, Every promise that was broken turning into what we hold! Blinded by the glory hanging high above the street, Fortune rising in our chest, the turning is complete! Look at the light! Woah! Woah! Oh! Seven colors in the clear, Seven colors saying fortune’s near. The rain is gone.
