Inspiring Storm

As we listen to the same song
And the wind blow,
How were we supposed to know?
That this was not right?
That this is not our time?
But we always stand:
The next fool in line.

As the raindrops fall
While we weep for another
Someone is killed by the hand of a mother.
How were we supposed to feel?
When this was not right?
When we were in the wrong?
Why all this time?
We've been waiting oh so long.

As the lightning crashes
While the father lies
Somewhere inside, the little boy dies.
How was this supposed to be?
Why is this wrong?
Why is it so tragic?
What a funny thing:
The thought of something magic.

As the thunder booms
In the distant sky
Another is betrayed by thine own eye.
How is this still going?
Why won't it end?
Why aren't we in the norm?
Soon it will cease.
The inspiring storm.

As the clouds lift
And the sun appears
None remains, except our simple fears.
How were we supposed to know?
That this was not right?
That this is not our time?
We no longer stand:
Now we fade from the Life Line.

Dallas Fairchild
July 21, 2003