There's a storm coming down on an old Southern town They sway through the oaks and the pines They crack and they splinter on the doorway to winter They're all born and living to die Now it's two years December since I seen that old river And wonder if she's running wild Is she holding still and loosing her willows Too tired from running miles There's a blackbird that flies on the edge of the night Trying to find his way He's riding that line of darkness and light Lost in the Blue Velvet Rain Soaked to the bone and burning alone A fire without any flame He's been in the wind of lies and excuse Of feeling there's noone to name There's a blackbird that flies on the edge of the night Trying to find his way He's riding that line of darkness and light Lost in the Blue Velvet Rain Lost in the Blue Velvet Rain