| Warsaw, Autumn 1943
|
| Not many of us left
|
| And winter’s coming
|
| I can smell it in the air
|
| And with winter the End,
|
| The game is over
|
| He’s a world away from mother now
|
| In this land of smoke and steel
|
| He lies listening for another sound
|
| And he’s eaten his last meal
|
| And he knows that winter is coming
|
| And he knows he won’t survive
|
| But he’s tired of endless running
|
| He won’t hide…
|
| And for those who still lie hidden
|
| He’s afraid he can’t provide
|
| And he hopes they will forgive him
|
| By and by…
|
| And he’s waiting for the winter
|
| And he’s waiting for the winter
|
| He was born here in this city
|
| He thought he knew these people well
|
| 'Till the one who shows no pity
|
| Took the world under his spell
|
| And he knows that winter is coming
|
| As it’s always come before
|
| As he reads the yellow letter
|
| Painted on his door
|
| And the letter stands for everything
|
| Yeah the letter says it all
|
| How far can one people sink '
|
| And how far can they fall?
|
| He’s waiting for the winter
|
| Waiting for the winter
|
| He’s waiting for the winter
|
| Waiting for the winter
|
| Waiting for the winter
|
| He’s waiting for the winter
|
| Waiting for the winter
|
| Waiting for the winter |