With all the stories in our world,
Must they begin in the same way?
And they seem to tell us how we are
Supposed live every day.
And yet we cannot see the things that are happy our sight.
And our lives seem to start and end with, one stormy night.

There’s nothing more to do,
You must get on your knees and pray.
Your faith must be held on like glue,
That’s what I heard the preacher say.
And yet, I just can’t tell when to run or what to fight.
They say our lives are damned start and end with, one stormy night.

And all I ever see is what is depressing,
People going poor, the threat of war,
And yet I never see the love, just the spite.
All that’s left is just the darkness of one stormy night.

So we just sit and listen,
To the rain at our doors.
I feel ashamed,
And I can’t take this lying down anymore!
I know there’s more to life than with what they blind our sight
But we’re ever shown it the terror of one stormy night.