4-8 My insides are turned inside out;

specters of death have me down.

I shake with fear,

I shudder from head to foot.

"Who will give me wings," I ask—

"wings like a dove?"

Get me out of here on dove wings;

I want some peace and quiet.

I want a walk in the country,

I want a cabin in the woods.

I’m desperate for a change

from rage and stormy weather.