Falling (Live at Sigma Sound Studios, WMMR Radio, Philadelphia, PA, April 1972)

Once upon a time in the land of misty satin dreams there stood a house
And a man who painted nature scenes
He painted trees
And fields and animals and streams
And he stayed and he didn't hear the falling of the rain
No, we didn't hear the falling of the rain

In the forest green lived a girl who put her hair in braids and she sang
As she walked all about the wooded glades
She was glad when the rain came falling on her face
And she sang, 'cause she didn't mind the falling of the rain
No, she didn't mind the falling of the rain
Will it always be the same as we recall?

Does it touch you when the rain begins to fall?
Ah, but I don't want to know and I don't want to see
Another rainy day without you lying next to me, ah
High upon a hill far away from the dusty crowd is a boy
With his eyes on the ground, his head is bowed
He's a fool and his mind is filled with hopeless dreams
And he waits, but he will not see the falling of the rain
No, he will not see the falling of the rain
Will it always be the same as we recall?
Does it touch you when the rain begins to fall?
Ah, but I don't want to know and I don't want to see
Another rainy day without you lying next to me, ah

So now the boy becomes the man who sits and paints all day
But the girl with the braids in her hair has gone away
And it seems that time has brought things to an end
Nothing's changed, 'cause you can't stop the falling of the rain
Can't stop the falling of the rain