On a cold wet and newly white day
the juice of life pulls in,
in and away
I sit down with a list of things to do
but my mind, lips, and fingers
have all turned blue
sorrows of summer's death
no more autumn fire
I take a deep deep breath
to re-heat this desire
If wild dreams should perish
in the claws of ice and cold
Then every colour I will cherish
and every feeling I shall hold
Our syrup is frozen
Our eyes are cast down
But life blood flows in
hidden veins underground