E A
Storms never last, do they baby?
B7 E
Bad times all pass with the wind.
E A
Your hand in mine stills the thunder
B7 E
And you make the sun want to shine
E A
I followed you down so many roads, baby.
B7 E
I picked wild flowers and sung you soft sad songs,
E A
And every road we took, God knows our search was for the truth,
B7 E
And the storms brewing now won't be the last.
Chorus
Instrumental
Chorus