A band from Topeka sang in the 70s
Of commanding the lightning's hand
Of a storm rolling in that might be the end
It may not have been rain of which they spoke
Whether they knew it or not
Rolling clouds and driving winds
Hail and ice and thunder's parent
Are not always meteorological
They may not have uniformed workers
Wearing gold braid on sleeves and on shoulders
Tracking them and tracing them
Storms of rain and hail sweep across the plain
Driven by the song-noted winds
But they are as nothing to the storm that is coming
And the lightning's hand will strike where
A mightier bids it
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