When the wind starts to howl,
violent thunder-clouds growl,
Earth-riven dread looms too near;
when the sun’s tears are shed,
each bright blossom bows its head,
and Death calls out for all to hear,
Peace pierces through the fear.
The bright sun meekly hides
as the silver moon glides
through nightfall celestially sent.
As the sun hides her rays
at the end of ev’ry day,
when all energy has been spent,
Peace will guide our planet.
Composed by Horace Silver © 1959
Lyrics by Rusty Taylor © September 11, 2011