| Frosty mornings
|
| Stay at home
|
| Think about
|
| The time that’s gone
|
| Trying to reason what went wrong
|
| Then you start to write a song
|
| Running in the street
|
| Bumping into those you meet
|
| Heading over heels
|
| Scratch your head, see how it feels
|
| Jumping on a bus
|
| Jumping off again because
|
| There’s nowhere to go
|
| And it’s going to snow
|
| I think it’s going to snow X 3
|
| There’s no point in coming down
|
| Just because you’re in the town
|
| See the way a winter breeze
|
| Leaves a pattern through the leafs
|
| I’m looking at a scene
|
| Everything is colored green
|
| Standing on your head
|
| Finding things beneath the bed
|
| Sitting on a floor
|
| Waiting for a friend to stop
|
| Climbing on a tree
|
| To see if it is he
|
| See if it is he X 3
|
| Makes no difference where you’ve been
|
| Whirlpool chasms suck you in
|
| Roundabout you swirl and glide
|
| Now you’re floating on the tide
|
| No matter what you do
|
| Don’t forget it isn’t you
|
| Nothing you can hide
|
| Nothing lives that hasn’t died X 3
|
| Shoobadoowa shoobadoowa shoobadoowa shoobadoo wa wa X 2
|
| No matter what you do
|
| Don’t forget it isn’t you
|
| Nothing you can hide
|
| Nothing lives that hasn’t died
|
| Shoobadoowa shoobadoowa shoobadoowa shoobadoo wa wa X 2 |