.-.

Oh, Miss Believer, my pretty sleeper
          Your twisted mind is like snow on the road
          Your shaking shoulders prove that it's colder
          Inside your head than the winter of dead
          
          I will tell you I love you
          But the muffs on your ears will cater your fears
          My nose and feet are running as we start
          To travel through snow
          Together we go

Sup sup

no hablo inglés