Millions of miles from home In the darkness before the dawn In the swirling of this storm When I'm rolling with the thunder But bleed from thorns Leave a light, a light on.
Millions of miles from home In the darkness before the dawn In the swirling of this storm When I'm rolling with the thunder But bleed from thorns Leave a light, a light on.
By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground, since from it you were taken; for dust you are and to dust you will return. — Genesis 3:19