A twisting wind that wreaks such devastation,
a town like matchwood torn and turned around;
an act of God? Or nature's self destruction?
Here people die, trees rooted from the ground.
It seems there is no safety in this carnage.
And where is God when random death walks in
destroying buildings, tossing cars like pennies?
A game where all will lose, and none can win.
Verse 3 follows
Tune: INTERCESSOR
Andrew Pratt (born 1948)
Words © 21/5/2013 Stainer & Bell Ltd, London, England, www.stainer.co.uk.
Please include any reproduction for local church and school use on your CCL Licence returns. All wider and any commercial use requires prior application to Stainer & Bell Ltd.
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