the oldest longing

a sort of knowledge comes with every pain
the body reveals secrets one by one
we long in drought for the reviving rain

there's much to notice that is never plain
things don't just happen when you draw a gun
a sort of knowledge comes with every pain

to find an answer goes against the grain
you're not the sole contestant in the run
we long in drought for the reviving rain

small rivers make no currents in the main
the journey's finished before you've begun
a sort of knowledge comes with every pain

we end the cycle but it must start again
what marks us most is what we will most shun
we long in drought for the reviving rain

in every choice there comes a point of strain
things are not lit as clearly by the sun
a sort of knowledge comes with every pain
we long in drought for the reviving rain