My youngest son, Sam, is a rockin' drummer - really good! There's a prophecy over his life. This is a song about it. (Remixed and much improved.)
Story behind the song
One evening at the Feast Church in Kamloops, Pastor Neal Mansell prophesied over my son, Sam, that he would be called 'Little Thunder.' (Neal didn't know Sam was a drummer.) Somehow the thing stuck with me and this song came out of that incident and out of my love for my son.
Lyrics
Little Thunder
I ran away to find myself,
Passed myself coming home.
I leave to you my blue gene, Son:
Get used being known!
Do I hear a, "What? Why me?
Now what have I done?"
Yes, you heard me right,
It's you. Listen to me, Son.
If He called you Little Thunder,
You better find out how come.
Every time I pass you, Sam.
I think I'm passing me.
Always picking apples,
off the cherry trees.
But I hear that out in Africa,
the trees are rather odd;
You might pick up crop out two,
Planted by the hand of God!
Do I hear a, "What? Who me?
Are you calling me, my Lord?"
I think I hear, a "Yes. It's you.
Samuel, put on your sword!"
Because I call you Little Thunder,
And you will speak my word.
Little Thunder
I ran away to find myself,
Passed myself coming home.
I leave to you my blue gene, Son:
Get used being known!
Do I hear a, "What? Why me?
Now what have I done?"
Yes, you heard me right,
It's you. Listen to me, Son.
If He called you Little Thunder,
You better find out how come.
Every time I pass you, Sam.
I think I'm passing me.
Always picking apples,
off the cherry trees.
But I hear that out in Africa,
the trees are rather odd;
You might pick up crop out two,
Planted by the hand of God!
Do I hear a, "What? Who me?
Are you calling me, my Lord?"
I think I hear, a "Yes. It's you.
Samuel, put on your sword!"
Because I call you Little Thunder,
And you will speak my word.