| | Storms never last do they baby |
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| |
Bad times all pass with the winds |
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Your hand in mine steals the thunder |
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You make the sun want to shine |
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I followed you down so many roads, baby |
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I picked wild flowers and sung you soft sad songs |
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And every road we took God knows our search was for the truth |
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And the storms brewin’ now won’t be the last |
|
|
| |
Storms never last do they baby |
|
| |
Bad times all pass with the winds |
|
| |
Your hand in mine steals the thunder |
|
| |
You make the sun want to shine |
|
|
|
|
|
| |
Storms never last do they baby |
|
| |
Bad times all pass with the winds |
|
| |
Your hand in mine steals the thunder |
|
| |
You make the sun want to shine |
|
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