It's not so much a storm,
But just a cloud that lives inside of me.
He doesn't stir so easily these days,
But when he wakes he goes the distance.
In a marathon of days too long.
Open containers that sing songs,
"You'll never dream again, but you can pray."
I'm starin' through the smoke, tryin' to catch a last vision of her.
The smoke's rollin' upward while the flame's bein' smothered.