|
There's a holy cloud |
|
Rolling through the city |
|
Yeah, threatenin' to rain. |
|
Said I've come to rest the iron |
|
Of your locamotive train. |
|
The rails you're riding on my friend |
|
Will take you nowhere fast. |
|
And when you arrive at nowhere |
|
With your future turned to past, |
|
You'll realize the track must end |
|
'Fore you reach the western shore |
|
Then you'll wish the rails would stop you, |
|
You wish the rails would stop you there before |
|
Waiting on rain |
|
'Cause I've been down |
|
Waiting on rain, |
|
Rain gonna come. |
|
Rain on me now. |
|
They say that turnin' trains to rust |
|
Is such an ugly thing to do, |
|
But I love myself no more than I love you. |
|
If you can take these iron wheels |
|
And turn them into rust, |
|
You'll know the god who sent us |
|
Is a god that you can trust. |
|
You'll realize the track extends |
|
Beyond the western shore |
|
And we'll ride the rails to freedom |
|
We'll ride the rails to freedom through that storm |
|
Waiting on rain |
|
'Cause I've been down |
|
Waiting on rain, |
|
Rain gonna come |
|
Rain on me, now |
|
Rain gonna come |
|
Rain on me now. |
|
It's gonna come rain on me now |
