"I love the sound of rain on the roof of a car, knowing you're inside, warm and dry" my father once said to me "Until you get out," I responded, gazing into the night "Until you get out," he confirmed. And in that moment, on that rainy August night I realized he was my car, keeping me dry from a world of rain And at 19 I am starting to open the door, Put my feet on the ground and try to keep them from getting wet But home is always there Whether I sit in the car and wait or run outside, trying to beat the cloud from bottoming out The world from bottoming out To hell with metaphors To similes and references I don't need rain Or an old camry To describe how my father has always been there To protect and shelter And teach me to appreciate the little things That you don't need much to be happy And to work hard, earn that car that sits in your driveway And lets you listen to the rain on the roof And for a moment, just a moment Time stands still Like a raindrop descending from the clouds And making its way all the way to the ground Running down the windshield Tracing the trail it leaves behind with my eyes And while the world is waiting for that raindrop I am just happy to sit and listen to the rain With the man who taught me that when the rain does come To sit in the car and listen to it with the people that you love.