The lights were off,
As the storm rolls on...

A man of not even thirty
inheriting the family company...

Drifting away to sleep,
One place that you join me...

The calls continued,
As the visits increased...

Flames of grass,
smoke of clouds...

From 6 to 8 happy hour takes place,
72 hours before Christmas day...

Counter clockwise clocks,
Violent thunderstorms with no clouds...

I am only 14,
But I have seen too much rain...

You were there…
When the sky began to fall...

This soldier died for you,
She’s from Iowa and Twenty two...

She lay on her side,
As she watched out her window...

Gradually our life's meaning fades,
Forgetting our peace, love and faith...