Mum and Dad are home Sitting round the table Dads got his face buried in his hands Never seen Dad cry Didnt think that he was able Gravel on the drive, washed away again And with skin off his fingers Still the rain comes down Another week just waiting As he looks down at his hands Tell the rain to stop falling Tell the banks to stop calling Tell the politicians where they can put their plans Tell the day to hold on longer Tell our sons we cant be bothered And then tell these hands to give up on the land Tell these hands Better take a look Rain might be gone by morning Are you coming for a drive, we wont be long Arm out the window Giving In on the radio Funny how that rain cant deep us in And with skin off his fingers Still the rain comes down Theyre driving through the inches On a track of flooded ground Tell the rain to stop falling Tell the banks to stop calling Tell the politicians where they can put their plans Tell the day to hold on longer Tell our sons we cant be bothered And then tell these hands to give up on the land Tell, tell these hands Go on and tell these hands Go on and tell these hands Tell these hands
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