All we know is in the village All the people in their small towns Come racing towards the shelters When the winds arrive, the storm is over it The sky turns black and blue The heavens seemed to have picked up another bruise I stand in the rain, thinking of me and you You All the blue hairs in the chior are singing One and all Faithful servants to God and love And grace and eternity The baptist's hands, they never change Old familiar amazing grace I laugh out loud, but nothing's funny at all At all At all At all At all I can stand 40 days in the rain To tell you that I still feel the same If there's no way to say the time is served Than there's no easy way out of this Three more years of this Three more years of this Three more years of this Three more years Of this Of this Of this Of this Three more years of this Three more years of this Three more years of this Three more years