The speaker watches someone in deep pain and isn't sure how to help. At first they don't know whether this person wants company, and the answer is muddled: "you said no / but the moon said yes." The person plays guitar late into the night, and the music seems to pour out something raw. The image of a soul spilling "as if a pool of blood" and a "limp twisted body" suggests exhaustion and hurt.
The speaker admits they don't fully understand, calling it "misconstrued communication." Still, they sense that silence can say more than words. They feel the other person's pain and cry inwardly for the tears that never fall. When the person finally speaks, it's as if the sky opens.
The mood is tender, sad, and quietly helpless. The repeated "Rain.. .Rain.. .Rain falls" at the end works like a slow release, as though the grief the person can't shed is falling for both of them, washing over speaker and sufferer alike.