AUGUST CLOUDS
What can you say in August to the boy who’s father left
us?
It’s all part of a master plan?
The God of this world is really a man?
It’s all part of a master plan?
The God of this world is really a man?
See the look upon his face, his steady nervous
pace,
the hope -just a trace -the clouds are falling into place.
Can you see them? The clouds are caving in. CAVING IN. the hope -just a trace -the clouds are falling into place.
Yes the weather seems good today but the clouds will have the final say. For when the forecast is at hand -"It’s all part of the master plan," (says the weatherman.)
Last August the clouds seemed so far away. The weatherman predicted clear skies today! Then reminded you that even a little bit of rain can't drown out the pain. (Wait, what’s he trying to say?)
August means the end of summer fun -when you are young.
A new cycle begins. Some will lose and some will win.
For the boy all cycles have ended. He is shattered, unraveled
-in a whirlwind you can’t ever know; unless you've been there before.
Forecast calls for tornadoes tomorrow. Reminding you of the
time you have and how it's borrowed. A new cycle begins. Some will lose and some will win.
For the boy all cycles have ended. He is shattered, unraveled
-in a whirlwind you can’t ever know; unless you've been there before.
Yes tornadoes can bring you down to the ground -yet they’re gone in a flash. But these clouds will hover and cast (their grip on you).
“We don’t need no clouds, no.” Somebody famous once sang.(who?) Then the clouds came calling for him. Now all we hear are his echos and the boy does too (within)
The echo of his fathers’ footsteps, the echo of the clearing
of his throat, every echo of every sound his father ever made, he knows.
They told him to rely on the most high because he controls the clouds.(Now repeat it out loud) "He controls the clouds."
They told him to rely on the most high because he controls the clouds.(Now repeat it out loud) "He controls the clouds."
It is all part of a master plan.
Makes no sense to the boy this August.
Makes no sense to the boy this August.
He doesn't feel like the rest of us.
We could see the clouds hovering above but we couldn't see
the boy. For he stood in the midst --of the
clouds grips. This was thier separation.
And his fathers’ preparation.
August Clouds here to pull somebody in.
The boy knows… it isn’t him.Let the healing begin.
