The Boy Who Loved the Rain

Let me tell you of a boy, A boy that I once knew; This child 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. I guess he liked the thunderstorm And how the lightning struck. He would run around the barn And stimulate his luck. 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. 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.