The Hurricane
Well he thought about it every day
Of the sound and of the feel of the hurricane
Every time he closed or opened his eyes
He'd dream of making contact
He'd dream of heavy skies
He'd dream that he could conjure
A great magnetic storm
To ward away the others
To leave them all alone
He'd long to feel the danger
The branches that could snap
The panic and the peril
The bones that could be cracked
The wind
The wind

I'll pin it on the devil
I'll be exempt from blame
I'll pin it on a million things
But the fact remain the same
I'll creep under the covers
I'll sure be swept away
I'll sure be swept away
I'll sure be swept away
I'll sure be swept away
I'll sure be swept away

I'll sure be swept away