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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