| And people like me don’t take to it with ease
|
| So kindly
|
| It’s far too cold for comfort
|
| And I think too much
|
| About the air that I breathe
|
| About the air that I breathe
|
| About the air that I breathe
|
| About the sword I unsheathe
|
| About the ground underneath
|
| That caves in when I try to stand
|
| When I don’t have your hand
|
| When there’s no reprimand
|
| Winter will always come around eventually
|
| And people like me don’t take to it with ease
|
| It’s far too cold for comfort
|
| And I think too much
|
| About the air that I breathe
|
| About the air that I breathe
|
| About the air that I breathe
|
| About the sword I unsheathe
|
| The ground underneath
|
| That caves in when I try to stand
|
| When I don’t have your hand
|
| When there’s no reprimand
|
| When there’s no reprimand |