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Tell me that blue skies must follow the grey,
that dawn comes again from the darkest night,
that all who are blind will receive their sight,
and the people in chains will someday play.
For it is hard to walk without a ray
of light to guide me through rain and through blight.
Tell me that blue skies must follow the grey,
that dawn comes again from the deepest night.
It is hard to keep on, and not just lay
on the cold hard ground when my faith takes flight,
when my footsteps are plagued with pain and fright.
Sometimes it is even too much to pray.
Tell me that blue skies must follow the grey.
