There is something in the air,
a sight I can't quite grasp
that closes me in, squeezes my breath—
I breathe deep, but feel I must gasp;

Do you feel the suffocating cover
that wraps us in night so tight?
It can't be seen, can't be touched,
but still my own face goes white;

There's a presence in this world—
one I can hardly stand to bear—
a menace that tickles my senses,
invisibly unseen, and yet everywhere;

A light so gone it's dark as pitch
behind a facade of bright,
this world that we pretend is gold,
truly is hiding the night.