The raindrops tap on our tin roof

Just the perfect percussion

To the strumming of my pa’s old guitar

A happy song he sings

A cheerful melody I hum

Together, we forget

The nothing we have

And count

The little we own

Ma passes by and smiles at us

Her face tired but hopeful

A piece of damp rug in her hand

An empty bucket in the other

We smile back

She sits in between us

The cold wind blows

Ma wraps her warm arms around me

As pa continues to sing the happy song

And I hum the cheerful melody

Forgetting the nothing we have

And counting the little we own

Here in this shanty

While the raindrops tap on our roof.