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    "Hurricane Eyes"genre: Pop
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    Acoustic guitar offers a persuasive background for beautiful voice and harmony. Not typical and maybe trance enducing.
    CD: Peterson & Dennihy: A Little Change   Label: Acoustic Pie Publishing
    Credits: Donna Dennihy on lead vocals and harmonies, Jon Peterson on Guitar and harmonies, song © 2002 Jon Peterson. All Rights Reserved.

    Story Behind the Song
    This song struggles with the different speeds at which people are changing, or even willing to accept change. This is even more difficult when the person changing is the same person you have an intimate relationship with.

    Lyrics
    Hurricane Eyes
    © 2002 Jon Peterson. All Rights Reserved.

    You are an Island of loneliness,
    I am the longing for the endless sea.
    To wash upon your shores, would end my journeys free.
    So the cold north wind has built a cliff,
    Where only birds fly free, fly free.

    I have a current running through me,
    You have the sun swept sand and leaves.
    Occasionally, I break free of my waves,
    And send a torrent of hope,
    Wishing to wash you free, you free.

    And you're so afraid of flying free.
    And you're so afraid of the storm love brings.
    So you run and hide for cover,
    Yet you long to be swept away.
    By a love so strong as a hurricane,
    Then drift into the calm of the eye,
    Drift into these hurricane eyes.

    Birds have no chains and have left you dry,
    Flying off to call you can't understand.
    And the fire mountain which created you,
    Gently gives up her grip and dies. . .
    And you drift into these hurricane eyes.
    And your safe within these hurricane eyes.

    And you're filled with joy as you're flying free.
    And you never knew how happy you could be.
    And I think you've found the answer,
    Love is a storm in disguise.
    And if you can keep on floating,
    You'll drift through to clearer skies.
    And you'll find you've found a place to call home...
    Come drift into these hurricane eyes. . . (repeat & fade)
    Come drift. . .


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