This Weather - Patrick Wolf

The storm blows around 
This harbour town 
I listen to its wind as a choir 
The shipping forecast 
Is crackling 
Like wet wood upon a fire 

And time slows and slips away 
The tourists come around in May 
'Till August when the clouds roll in 
The pier cracks, the awnings fade 
The Ferris wheel spins slowly in the rain, 
The day is gone. 

Under this weather 
Under this weather 
Such shadows are blossoming 
Out at sea 

I am not going to set myself free here 
I am following some dark fortune 
Some circle in me 

Hold back the wind 
Hold back the rain 
I want to live 
To see good weather 

Hold back the years 
Hold back the hours 
I want to live 
To see the sun break through 
These days 

Under this weather 
Under this weather 
Such shadows are blossoming 
In me