Three thirty in the morning, Not a
soul in sight, The city's looking like a ghost town On a moonlit summer
night.
Raindrops on the windshield, There's a storm moving
in. He's heading back from somewhere That he never should have
been.
And the thunder rolls. And the thunder rolls.
Every
light is burning In a house across town. She's pacing by the
telephone In her faded flannel gown.
Asking for a miracle, Hoping
she's not right. Praying it's the weather That's kept him out all
night.
And the thunder rolls. And the thunder
rolls.
CHORUS The thunder rolls, and the lightning
strikes. Another love grows cold, on a sleepless night. As the storm
rolls on, out of control. Deep in her heart, the thunder rolls.
She's
waiting by the window When he pulls into the drive. She rushes out to hold
him Thankful he's alive.
With all the wind and rain A strange new
perfume blows, And the lightning flashes in her eyes, And he knows that
she knows.
