Brews

Above Pete's head as he fumbles with his key The clouds get dark, start brawling Wargames ancient faces Pushing each other around the sky's changing A foaming storm is coming A howling mist, a growling downpour Pete don't see it Pete's too busy trying to make his key fit He can't Quite get It Right Now, in their rooms, Alicia And Esther and Jemma Are too concerned with their own thoughts To think about the weather But we see - the clouds like furious ink Thick liquid sinks and whips the wind Pitch-shifted Rumble, screams from a swollen grin - There's a big storm rolling in