The snow whips and blows,
It casts a shadow of winter,
As it whisks past my window,
I inch closer to the glowing cinders,
Here there are no wonderlands,
For there are only lost spirits,
Ones that will never feel the hands,
Of their lost lovers merits,
But at this time of the season,
All those living longing lovers,
Think they can reason,
For they are giving it all for another,
Who is whisked through the snow.