An old preacher holds on to the bible A small child sings "The Water's Wide" I stand like stone all alone outside their circle A faithless man, a fast left hand and a hole inside Her golden hair shined like sunlight on Sunday morning A band of gold was never put on her left hand They tell me that a band of angels Is waiting to receive her in a distant land It's a cold dark rain that keeps on falling On the just as well as the unjust Yet the sun you see it also rises If it don't blame it on a lack of trust Now the preacher tells me of a promise Of a heaven an everlasting love But his words to me now are of little comfort As I see her lying there just the sky above It's a cold dark rain that keeps on falling On the just as well as the unjust Yet the sun you see it also rises If it don't blame it on a lack of trust If it don't blame it on a lack of trust