So white, so pure,so cold.
Im beginning to feel old.
The year goes bye, is what I been told.
Every year the same old snow.
Flying from the skies, in those little pieces.
Cold as a winter morning, it falls down on your hands, your head, your nose.
Snow.
It will come snow every year as I have been told.
I wonder if the snow is going to come even if Im old...