Its June and there’s raindrops on my window, Not a sweeter metaphor could be made for me at all. Its June and I’m lying on this bed once again, Dying for a little company to soften your nightly call. Its June and its warmer than it has been all year, But my thoughts are colder than they’ve been before. Its June and the loneliness is here to stay tonight, Setting up camp in my room right beside the open door.