Sweet something howl away,
your father with the big bouquet,
a celebration in the cold,
a celebration in the cold.
With twists and turns, the candles lit,
and wine flows down every grid.
Cars collide at news of stations,
bridges turn with new found passions.
And seeing with a face of fortunes,
glides her hand towards the curtains.
To prove that she can still survive,
she moves the chord about sometimes.
Sweet something howl away,
your father with the big bouquet,
a celebration in the cold,
a celebration in the cold.