I opened my eyes
And looked up at the rain,
And it dripped in my head
And flowed into my brain,
And all that I hear as I lie in my bed
Is the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head.

I step very softly,
I walk very slow,
I can't do a handstand--
I might overflow,
So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said--
I'm just not the same since there's rain in my head.

I run out of patience, I run out of time,
Life's clock tells me I'm running out of years;
When my mind's weary,  I run out of rhyme,
Why is it I never run out of tears?