Radio in the rain

I passed a payphone still glued to the wall

Like a preacher who stayed through the church’s downfall

It rang once, then stopped — I just stared like a ghost

Some messages reach you when you need them the most

I met a man selling stars out of jars

Said, “You can light up your room or just leave them in cars”

He hummed like a dial tone, cracked like a flame

Said, “Nothing is real, but it feels just the same”

And I’m not asking for answers

Just a little more static to drown out the shame

There’s a voice in the distance

Like a radio in the rain

Yeah, it flickers and stumbles

Like a radio in the rain

There’s a train that don’t run but still whistles at night

Like an old melody that I forgot how to write

I sit by the window, let the headlights pretend

That I’m moving somewhere I won’t have to defend

And the world keeps turning like a used carousel

Paint chipping off horses, but the music still swells

I keep checking my pockets for some kind of map

But all I keep finding is lint and I laugh

I’m not searching for meaning

Just a moment of calm that I don’t have to name

There’s a hum in the silence

Like a radio in the rain

Yeah, it cracks and it falters

Like a radio in the rain

So here’s to the noise and the things we outgrow

To the signals we send but don’t ever decode

To the songs on the static that help us remain

Like a radio,

In the rain