The storm is coming,
The time is near.
Peace and tranquility are no longer here.
The sky's turning gray,
I'm scared to death.
The chaos and fear just won't let me rest.
But the question I ask is it here to stay,
Or like any storm will it blow away?
In this storm there is an eye,
Where the broke and weary lye.
So in the eye is where I'll stay,
Until there is a sunny day.