Glistening frost and all that ****,
the Winters wind chews at the bit.
Christmas songs surfing the waves,
as he slowly fades away.
Lost upon a Winters day.

The shadows and the cold outside,
the sorrows that he tries to hide.
The liquor,
drowning all the hope.
Just another way to cope.

And people pass,
along their way.
A man lies cold upon the ground.
Lost upon a Winters day,
how long now before he's found?
How long now before we're found?

Raising up the spirit to the sky
The final words that left the lips
The silence of goodbye
Raising up the soul to rest again
The final breath that leaves the lips
The candles dying flame.

The lonely cobbled stones,
and your old lonely cobbled heart.
Surrendered to the mysteries,
always, from the very start.
The city, all around you,
the pulse, the sway,
the forming of.....
the soul that marches forward now,
lost without a glowing God.

Friday nights and neon lights
defused with time and space.
Look upon a flowing stream,
upon the human race.
The sway, the way,
the right to say.
The march it must go on.
The way we all surrender,
the way we always carry on.

The way life has its music,
all in its own time,
in its own sweet sacred place,
the rhythm and the rhyme.
The way the weathers changing,
darker every day.
The way the Summer falls to Fall,
gently on its way.
Lost among the creases,
the pillows and the sheets.
The creases underneath our eyes,
the journeys we complete.
Each week bringing different things,
with the rhythm and the rhyme.
Changing with the way we sing,
everything within its time.

Misty morning,
coffee and regrets.
A fuzzy head,
and bleary eyes,
a pocket full of crumpled bets.
The traffic worse than ever
as time flies.
Sweaty palms, a pounding head,
searching for a cigarette.
And every light I'm hitting now is red,
its days like this I should have stayed in bed.
The mornings now,
the darkness and the rain,
the way the days are flying by,
each one seeming just the same.
I guess its just that time of year again
as winter comes and swallows everything.
I swallow down my coffee with my pride
until the spring I guess I'm gonna hide.
.

Her voice it reaches into me,
hooks me like a desperate fish.
She's singing songs of Ireland,
such a saucy creamy dish.

Seafood chowder by the sea,
a sense of you, a sense of me.
All the things we're gonna see,
everything we're gonna be

Out the window, rolling waves,
rolling round upon the floor.
Her mind is like a hidden cave,
leaves me craving, wanting more.

The wind, the rain,
our twisted brains.
The way she moves,
the way she sways.
Lost within Octobers days.
Lost with every word we say.

The Spanish navy strong enough,
maybe too strong for their worth.
Led with the cross and then the sword.
Never questioning their Lord.

The infantry, the Tudor reign,
grabbing at what's there to gain,
As history repeats itself,
living as a helpless serf.

The Tribesman who once conquered all,
dying with the lions roar.
As history repeats itself,
nothing ever making sense.

The Christians, Jews,
Muslims, all,
each one shall forever fall.
Upon their blades,
those raised in hate,
Each one to their own sweet faith.