growing

The rain came and went

The flowers all are bent

by pressure that has left them hanging low at the stems

The people all join hands

rejoice of promise lands

Praising the years crops while only few stalks barely stand

The water washed away

all who lived right on the bay

singing songs of love and little lullabyes to ease their way

Though the day has come and gone

The morning still belongs

To the one who never caused any of those many wrongs

Now the clouds begin to part

While admiring the art

the people raise their hands to glory glory hallelajuh