by Shel Silverstein 


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 slishy-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.


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