The wind blows past
The hills are vast
The sweet sound of a gong
In this world nothing is wrong
The grass as green as a lucky clover
But now the day is over
The orange bliss of sundown
You see an abandoned house that is rundown
You stroll in still loving the sounds you hear
Your mind is clear
You rest your weary head
As you lay down on the old but comfortable bed
Your eyes open to the sight of lightning
Your peaceful world is now frightening
The world you thought was normal
Was actually paranormal
Walking on the skies
Where all the green grass dies
The sound of the breeze
Has become a disease
It is a deadly growl
And you see the eyes that scowl
For your haven
Now is circled by a raven
The glass has cracked
But no one knows how I will react
Tears of blood
The room you’re in floods