They ask me why I love the rain
I tell them its like a train
It hits and goes
And you are either on it or not

They ask me why I love the rain
I tell them it reminds me of pain
Smell of soil and toil
And weakness I am made of

They ask me what I love about the rain
I tell them it isn’t the same
Without it the sun rays
The humid, the cold, the life

They ask me what I love about the rain
I tell them you never understand the game
Red skies, dark clouds, sprinkle wind
All hold it in vain

They ask me what I love about the rain
I tell them write me a poem
Scrawl and dribble on paper
Hear the prattles fumble on paper

They ask me why I love the rain
I tell them, “Sorry, I didn’t get your name
But you will never know mine
See, its all about the rain—”