I stepped out of the St. James Hotel, I left you behind, curled up like a child. Change is gonna come, the door was shut, I walked on down the high-windowed hall. You lay sleeping on the unmade bed, the weatherman on the television in the St. James Hotel said that the rains are gonna come. And I stepped out on the streets, all sparkling clean with the early morning dew. Maybe it was you and maybe it was me, you came on like a punch in the heart. Lying there with the light on your hair like a Jesus of the moon, a Jesus of the planets and the stars. Well, I kept thinking about what the weatherman said, and if the voices of the living can be heard by the dead, well, the day is gonna come. When we find out in some kind of way, I take a little comfort from that now and then. Cause people often talk about being scared of change, but for me I'm more afraid of things staying the same. Cause the game is never won by standing in any one place for too long. Maybe it was you and maybe it was me, there's a chord in you that I could not find to strike. You lying there with all the light in your hair like a Jesus of the moon, a Jesus of the planets and the stars. I see the many girls walking down the empty streets, maybe once or twice one of them smiles at me. You can't blame anyone for saying hello, I say hello, say hello. Will it be me or will it be you, one more stay or one depart? You lying there with a sin came soaked out red like a Jesus of the moon, a Jesus of the planets and the stars. Say hello, hello, hello. *