When it Storms
When the skies are gray, the air grows cool
The wind picks up, the shadows rule
The water laps, the pine trees sway
The air grows cool when the skies are gray
When the thunder rolls, the lightning splits
The animals hide, and the downpour hits
The campers run as the weather controls
The lightning splits when the thunder rolls
On our journey here, the storms will come
We’ll want to hide, we’ll want to run
But in our God, we have no fear
The storms will come on our journey here
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