Babies And Lightning.

'Mommy, how are babies made...?'

'It's time we set this rumour laid...

Well my dear, it starts with dreams,
A mommy wants one, so it seems.
She wishes hard and up by God,
There's thunder and a lightning rod.
The spot that lightning hits in ground,
Makes a wailing, baby sound.
A baby's born, the stork arrives,
And through the weather, on it drives.
The baby comes and mommy smiles,
And it's recorded in the files.'