(Chorus)
Storms never last do they baby,
Bad times all pass with the wind,

Your hand in mine stills the thunder
And your love makes the sun want to shine.


I followed you down so many roads baby
I picked wild flowers and sung you soft sad songs,
And every road you took I know your search was for the truth,
And the storm that's brewing now won't be the last.

(Repeat Chorus)