[Verse] The sky remembers every word it spoke, a whisper through the wires, soft and slow. The fields are tired, knees bent in the stone, but the radio hums—just a little glow. [Pre-Chorus] And the wind carries the names of those who left, in static songs the old trees still sing. [Chorus] Rain, come slow, come kind, wash the dust from what remains. Harvest dreams in a silver line— we'll count the silence, and the nameless rain. Rain, come slow, come kind, carry me like a lullaby. Even the stillness learns to sing in the hush before the sky says goodbye. [Verse] She said, “The oats are thick,” and her voice trembled clear, a thread of warmth through the cold, worn wire. The barn door creaks with a story near, and the sky says, “You’re still here.” [Pre-Chorus] And the wind carries the names of those who left, in static songs the old trees still sing. [Chorus] Rain, come slow, come kind, wash the dust from what remains. Harvest dreams in a silver line— we'll count the silence, and the nameless rain. Rain, come slow, come kind, carry me like a lullaby. Even the stillness learns to sing in the hush before the sky says goodbye. [Bridge] The needle stops, but the song remains, in the air between the trees and the rain. No one hears, but I know it’s true— even the end can be a kind of dew. [Chorus] Rain, come slow, come kind, wash the dust from what remains. Harvest dreams in a silver line— we'll count the silence, and the nameless rain. Rain, come slow, come kind, carry me like a lullaby. Even the stillness learns to sing in the hush before the sky says goodbye. [Outro] Rain, come slow, come kind… the earth remembers… the wires still hum… the sky says… “you’re still here.”