out in the cold,
my muscles ache
too stiff to bend
too strong to break

there's work to do
there's wood to split
good thing I love
this kinda ****

I feel the shock,
I feel the sting
each time I make
a solid swing

too stiff to bend,
too strong to break
my hands are numb,
my muscles ache

my core is warm
like I'm on fire
but life don't stop
because I'm tired

each day's a fight
i'm gonna win it
I can't slow down
until I'm finished

have to stay warm
there's wood to split
good thing I love
this kinda ****

the cold tastes bitter on the wind
blue cigarette smoke hangs in the air
as vague shapes,
impressions of souls
this place is ruined,
worn down and
tilted and
sad

once,
there were people
i think so,
at least

torn apart by
the gravity wells
of the moon,
ferried by waves,
shouting over oceans

made silent,
by the silence