When I think about the pain
All the sons of men see in this world
I sometimes ask the question, "Why it must be so?"
The sun, it sets -- falling
A golden glow fades before the night darkens the sky
And the stars ask, "Why?"
The rain falls upon all men
The rain falls upon the face of all the green earth
The cool winds blow across the plains on a summers night
Some see the rain a curse blinding the eyes
And they ask the question, "Why Lord?"
The grain grows under the rain from the dark crying sky
We see the world blindly
Our feeble mind not seeing the good that comes from rain
And the flowers that grow from pain in this green world
The sower plans His seed
Falling water falls to barren earth soon to be green
Who am I to ask, "Why?"