Too cold, too cold, to sleep and to dream,
For thoughts such as these are not what they seem.
Too cold, too cold, and I would gladly leave,
If only I could, but these dreams I must weave.
Oh, to live and to die, I have not been spared,
But for lives such as mine, who would have cared,
And I search, I search, for one simple reason,
If a care I should find, I'll find in due season.
But I long for a taste of that unreachable dream,
Though it flits far away, or so it would seem,
And too far, too far, it's lost and unseen,
Floating away with my heart in between
A quiet, too quiet, sound is all that I hear,
But if a whisper should fall, it falls on deaf ear,
And I listen, I listen, hearing nothing at all,
At least nothing was said that my mind could recall.
Too cold, too cold, to dream and to sleep,
Tonight, I'll just wait for something to keep,
A thought, a whisper, and even a dream,
It's too cold out tonight, or so it would seem.
