Yes I am a dreary cold
that will benumb your very soul
Yes I am the hail-storm
that will leave your soul so sore
so helpless and disabled
But like every bad thing that ends;
When the spring comes
and the last traces of snow disappears
I will wither away.
Yes I am the volcano
That will eat you up whole
Yes I am the tornado
That will drag you down the pole
Beneath he ice and freeze you there.
But like every nightmare that goes;
When you open your eyes
and the first rays of sun penetrates
I will disappear.
Someday you’ll be granted your wish
See for yourself how I’ll vanish.
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