The Boy Who Loved The Rain

Let me tell you of a boy,

A boy that I once knew;

This boy once lived in Illinois,

Close to where I grew.

 

He always loved to play the games

Of Tag or Hide and Seek,

But he'd always play in rain,

And that's why he's unique.

 

One time, I guess, was his last run

As he went out to play,

The clouds that droned had hid the sun

And took away the day.

 

I guess he liked the thunderstorm

And how the lightning struck.

He would run around the barn

And stimulate his luck.

 

The lightning flashed and hit the grass

With so much bearing force

That people ran inside, alas,

To dodge the bullet's course.

 

The boy stood out among the wheat

That grew inside the field.

He waited for the rumb'ling beat

That shook the grinding mill.

 

Finally he raised his arms

Into the sky, so unrestrain'd

And shouted all throughout the farm

That he was there to greet the rain.

 

That's when the final strike release'd.

That's when the boy had all his nerve.

And as the thunder pounded east,

All the people would observe

 

The death of one who loved the feel

Of water from the sky.

We buried him out in the field,

A tomb he'd not deny.

 

That's the story of a boy

A boy that I once knew;

This child once lived in Illinois,

Close to where I grew.