About the Song

Toby Keith, the country music titan known for his bravado and redneck anthems, takes a softer approach with “Kissin’ in the Rain.” This laid-back ballad, released in 2010 on his album “Bullets in the Gun,” offers a glimpse into a tender moment of love and spontaneity.

Keith, known for his gruff vocals, delivers a surprisingly gentle performance here. His voice takes on a smoother quality, perfectly capturing the romantic mood of the song. The lyrics, likely penned by Keith himself (though official credits are unavailable), paint a simple yet evocative scene – a couple stealing a kiss under a summer downpour.

Lines like “Thunderbird was July hot now” and “Muddy lake was the perfect spot for” set the scene – a lazy summer afternoon punctuated by a refreshing rain shower. The song isn’t about grand declarations of love; it’s about the simple joys found in a stolen moment of affection. “Think about you all the time” and the title itself, “Kissin’ in the Rain,” capture the intimacy and playful spirit of the encounter.

The music perfectly complements the romantic mood. A gentle acoustic guitar melody sets the foundation, while a light piano and subtle percussion add texture. The overall sound is laid-back and inviting, creating a comfortable atmosphere for Keith’s smooth vocals to take center stage.

“Kissin’ in the Rain” might not be a typical Toby Keith song, but it showcases a different side of his artistry. It’s a reminder that even the toughest cowboys have a soft spot for romance, and that sometimes the most beautiful moments are found in the simple pleasures of life – a summer rain shower and a stolen kiss.

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Lyrics: Kissin In the Rain

Thunderbird was July hot now
Muddy lake was the perfect spot for
Camp fire, drinkin’ beer
Skippin’ half your senior year

Told your mama little white one
She didn’t want you hangin’ out in the sun
With a small town roughneck man
That will never be nothin’ but an old field hand

Shut up with your girl friend
‘Bout the time a storm rode in
Wind got up, it was pourin’ down
We could hear the sirens goin’ off in town

We were kissin’ in the rain, kissin’ in the rain
Hittin’ hard like a hurricane
Summer nights lit up with lightnin’
Soakin’ wet starin’ in your eyes and

We didn’t care a thing about the thunder
While the angry sky we were under
Was raisin’ Cane
We were kissin’ in the rain

You got in too late that night
And you and mama had a fight
You weren’t ever gonna win
Never got to see me again

Well, I get storm the days roll by
Now and then I still drive
Cross the dam in my old Ford
I get out and walk that shore

I still see you standin’ there
Blue jeans too wet to wear
Hair all drenched and out of place
And mascara runnin’ down your face

Every time the clouds get low
And the sirens start to blow
I get a sweet little déjà vu
My Thunderbird, me and you

Were kissin’ in the rain, kissin’ in the rain
Hittin’ hard like a hurricane
Summer nights lit up with lightnin’
Soakin’ wet starin’ in your eyes and

We didn’t care a thing about the thunder
While the angry sky we were under
Was raisin’ Cane
We were kissin’ in the rain
Yeah
Kissin’ in the rain

You Missed

“I CAN’T JUST LEAVE HER WITHOUT TELLING HER HOW IT IS,” RAY PRICE WHISPERED TO HIS ENGINEER IN THE STUDIO DARKNESS. He didn’t care about the chart positions or the industry accolades that had defined his career since the fifties. He needed the technology to capture a sincerity he had spent decades hiding behind the polish of the Ray Price Sound, ensuring the silence of his house wouldn’t be absolute. Ray Price and Janie Phillips shared a life defined by the rhythmic hum of the honky-tonk circuit and the quiet machinery of the music business. By 2012, however, the terminal weight of pancreatic cancer began to dictate the pace of their days. While the chemotherapy drained the vitality from his frame, Ray insisted on returning to the microphone. He chose a collection of love songs that felt like a long-overdue confession, building them out in a Nashville studio while keeping the project shielded from the one person who had been his professional and personal anchor for decades. Janie was kept at a distance, unaware that the distance was intentional. Ray was crafting a final, hidden correspondence. Each session at the microphone required a monumental effort, a man straining against his own biology to ensure the pitch remained true and the phrasing stayed sharp. He finished the work in October 2013, exhausted but satisfied, calling the record the finest thing he had ever managed to capture. He died in December, before the world ever heard a note. When the record eventually surfaced, Janie found herself standing in the spotlight she had spent forty-three years avoiding. She stepped into the radio stations and the silence of their home, carrying the voice of a man who had finally learned how to say what mattered most once he was no longer there to speak it himself.