The wind cries as its nimble fingers

Sweep over the land of our creator

She knows the pain of the mailman

He has to choose between his rent and food

She knows the worries of the teachers

They don’t know if they’ll make it out alive

The rain weeps as its lumbering feet

Stomp upon the land of our creator

He knows the story of the clerk

Who lost his son to cancer

He knows the troubles of the soldiers

They don’t know if they’ll make it out alive

The wind and rain, though they come and go

never leave our side

The wind cries with us when we are alone

The rain weeps with us through our misery

The wind and rain are always there

through our pain and hurt