I lay my head as the storm scowls near,
shivering in my bed surrounded by an abundance of fear.
Toil and trouble, the night prowls near.
Gusts above my head as I scream and shed tears.
When will this torment leave me so?
I hear the wind making voices and the storm won't from hither go.
Maybe the storm is just in my head?
Maybe if I wake up, no one will be left dead.