There's a certain sort of stillness
In the air
The oxygen is stale
The livelihood's not there
Where did it all go?
What happened to the spirit?
There is terror in the air
But the whole world's too afraid to hear it.
Too busy with their lives
With their work and with their play
Too busy with sweet dreams
To hear the nightmares say:
"Come out, come out, where ever you are
Come out, come out to dance!
Come out, come out, whoever you are
Come out and take a chance"