The lighthouse stood straight and tall,
The clouds were dark and gray.
The rain kept falling through the night,
And looked like it would stay.
The tide was rough as the storm raged on,
Crashing on the shore.
The lightning flashes gave concern,
As the thunder gave its roar.
In all the wind and pouring rain,
The lighthouse stood its ground.
Like a sentry boldly standing guard.
Protecting all around.
The ships all scattered in the sea.
Sailing through the night.
All safe because the lighthouse stood,
And guided by its light.
Old things always give way to new,
It’s the progressive thing I guess.
But there is no warmth, no heart or soul,
Inside a GPS.