Thrum thrum thrum
Rain falling softly
I hear it and feel it
But I am not really there
My mind is wandering to unimaginable places
Asks strange questions, makes strange remarks
You do not seem to understand that I am somewhere else
You poke and prod me along, never letting me think and express
I see stuff you cannot, but that is not bad
You make excuses for me, even though I do not need them, all I really need is quiet
But as the rain goes thrum, thrum, thrum, and you poke and prod, and I start to bawl
Remember that I may be in a different place, unaware
You do not exist, your screechy voice does not register
My mind is full of ideas it cannot express, my gears are whirling,
As the rain goes thrum, thrum, thrum
And my mind thinks of stuff you cannot understand, even if you actually tried
Understand me and listen to my story,
As the rain goes thrum, thrum, thrum
And you make excuses for my behavior, but they are tired ones, and you do not know this, but I can hear you
Disappointed in me, for I do not conform
The only place I can be free is my own mind, where the sounds cannot get me,
The unnerving touch of your hand will not pull me forward,
Where the smells are pleasant as a fresh meadow
Where I can be free and think
As the rain goes thrum, thrum, thrum
I think of past, present, and future
Of things forgotten
As the rain goes thrum, thrum, thrum