The Oncoming Storm (Countdown)

The world got dizzy with the end of world results -
With the businesses and suicides...
The words' and symbols' power really here insults,
It brainwashes or points people's minds.
But there's a phrase connected with a mystery
Of the travelling man - the blue thread
Entangled in the colors of the history,
And thank goodness that it is not red.

When it's the countdown - one, two, three -
But upside down,
Somebody sees the shadow in the eye,
When he's oncoming - four, five, six -
To the town,
Somebody waits for storming nearby.

The countdown's going - seven, eight -
While little smile
Is dancing on lips of Oncoming Storm,
Nine, ten, eleven - VWORP VWORP VWORP,
Come through the rile
And see the center - it's the softest warmth.

It seemed spectacles of wrong seeing were widespread,
They were worn and all people were blind,
Until somebody's back to world and isn't dead,
Until stranger hears crying of child...

The strangest sound - VWORP VWORP VWORP -
And bluest box
Are signals calling to run outside,
You cannot say word "no", "no", "no",
Then click the locks,
And you can see the each and every sight.

But there's a stone hanging
On neck of young-faced old man...
All words of all slangies
Cannot ease its firmest holding.
Oh, longest life, oh, curse of time...
Forever jumping and kidding to forget the past and the crime.
And even love, said eternal,
Can't overcome the years
If you're not described with verbal,
But on the other hand those tears
Can be not only of sadness,
But also of happy memories...
So strong and yet so helpless,
The Oncoming Storm continues tricks...

People are afraid,
But inside of trusting ones
There are little sparks
Lighting way in the dark,
Never letting go
Until he understands
He is so loved - those hands
Reach for him and his glow...

The giant chess board,
But piece's only one -
That side does him hate, the other does love...
Those who call for help
Can feel real warmth
From beating of hearts of Oncoming Storm...

When it's the countdown - one, two, three -
But upside down,
Somebody sees the shadow in the eye,
When he's oncoming - four, five, six -
To the town,
Somebody waits for storming nearby.

The countdown's going - seven, eight -
While little smile
Is dancing on lips of Oncoming Storm,
Nine, ten, eleven - VWORP VWORP VWORP,
Come through the rile
And see the center - it's the softest warmth.