Another winter is here, and the white falls so fast
That the air seems as frozen
As the snow on the ground.
For each passing breath that I struggle to keep,
My lungs become ice
They'll take in no more.
As I cough for more peace in the air that surrounds me,
A blaming panic sweeps over
My sense to survive.
So I turn to the heat that rises up from the heavens,
Hoping He'll see fit
To keep me once more.
Then all at once, the ice stops tracing the mountains
And the wind makes a promise
That the Sun will come out.