It's warm
There is no sun or fire
Just your fingers on my arm

I've taken off the scarf
Around my neck and I pace to
The window to check
If the snow has melted yet
Almost

It's nearly warm again
Letters in the mail bear
Good news from over there
They're doing well
Oh well

I'm alright here in this
Purgatory season
Caught in between the realities
Of seeing and believing
In what I've found here

It's been a cold year so far
But my heat, here you are standing
Before me
Your flames are all I see
In this dim corridor
I'm passing through

I hope the snow melts away
Real soon