| Sleeping like a snowman
|
| Solid as a block of ice
|
| Will you still remember me
|
| When we’re both five hundred and five?
|
| Will you still need me
|
| Will you still feed me
|
| When we both come back to life?
|
| I hope they don’t forget to thaw us out
|
| When we’re both five hundred and five
|
| I hope you’re still sleeping
|
| I hope you’re comfortable
|
| If it’s already been seven lifetimes
|
| Then we only have one more to go
|
| Grasping at straws in desperation
|
| A choice made by necessity
|
| And I know all the players when I’m dreaming
|
| And I wonder if you’re dreaming of me
|
| Sleeping like a snowman
|
| Solid as a block of ice
|
| Will you still remember me
|
| When we’re both five hundred and five?
|
| We were delirious and broken
|
| Some parts were here, but most were gone
|
| But there must be a place we can continue
|
| There must be a way to carry on
|
| There was a choice we made by fire
|
| That only ice could remedy
|
| Our bodies fixed as they assured me
|
| Welcome to the twenty-sixth century
|
| Sleeping like a snowman
|
| Solid as a block of ice
|
| Will you still remember me
|
| When we’re both five hundred and five? |