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

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

When the stars which burnt so bright

are exchanged for morning light

In the dawning of the day

Nightime's panic swept away