you phone around, but everyone's staying home   another night alone can make your head go spin   but the needles on the phonograph must be cursing:    "you gotta let it be"      in the brown of your wall you can hear another way    to make the west coast ladies do the eastside shake,   as long as the one across town just can't wait   turns on her stereo      we can find something finer   than some coins in a wishing well   all in good time, when wrong is right   and i'm another one, that's what i mean      she said her soul is torn and her thinking not straight,   her patched up heart becoming worn and frayed   i got my needle and thread going all the right ways   put on your party dress      all this time, it flies by mine   let's spend our whole life in a waiting room   only to find your palm was right   there was no line for apologies      i am rain on   the dusted desert summertime   we will, we will   not have to wait for long