The Storm, It's Coming (Hansard Glen)

Breaking from the feast From the decade of the beast On a new road, with no true north I see. There's doubt in every face And there's a lair on the stage. What good is it, if he don't himself believe in it? Every clap rings out a warning Get ready for the storm it's coming It's coming. There's a slap back in the face For a sin you can't erase A coin dropped in the box don't change the meaning. There's a storm and it's raging In the belly of the slave And it's coming. It's coming. When the wind howls at your gate Already it is too late. It's coming. It's coming.