Rollin’

Storm clouds are a-rollin’,
Headin’ in from the west,
And the trees are a-blowin’,
Makin’ a great big mess.

The sky it is dark
And the wind it is high,
As the finger of God
Reaches down from the sky.

But soon it’s all over,
The clouds blown away
By the same wind that tore
All the trees from the clay.

(c) 2017. All rights reserved.

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