|
In the centre of the storm |
|
something magic being born |
|
When the world is torn apart |
|
by the beating of a heart |
|
Like a dam about to burst |
|
Like a drunkard's crazy thirst |
|
In the centre of the storm |
|
something magic being born |
|
It's the dark hours of the soul |
|
when the nightmares take their toll |
|
when the shadows come to mock |
|
against the ticking of the clock |
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When the demons of the night |
|
come like vultures for their bite |
|
In the dark hours of the soul |
|
when the nightmares take their toll |
|
It's the dawning of the day |
|
night-time's panic swept away |
|
When the clouds which seemed so dark |
|
are exchanged for morning's lark |
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When the stars which burnt so bright |
|
are exchanged for morning light |
|
In the dawning of the day |
|
Nightime's panic swept away |
