All we know is in the village
All the people in their small towns
Come racing towards the shelters
When the winds arrive, the storm is over it
The sky turns black and blue
The heavens seemed to have picked up another bruise
I stand in the rain, thinking of me and you
You

All the blue hairs in the chior are singing
One and all
Faithful servants to God and love
And grace and eternity
The baptist's hands, they never change
Old familiar amazing grace
I laugh out loud, but nothing's funny at all
At all
At all
At all
At all

I can stand 40 days in the rain
To tell you that I still feel the same
If there's no way to say the time is served
Than there's no easy way out of this

Three more years of this
Three more years of this
Three more years of this
Three more years
Of this
Of this
Of this
Of this

Three more years of this
Three more years of this
Three more years of this
Three more years