The dawn has woken to its pleasure
Same as yesterday and day before
There is no sun to sing a gentle warmth
Just layers and crusts of frosts meddle
Rambling with cold and fine intentions
Same as yesterday and day before
There is no wind to ****** any sense
Just  shatters of thin ice and frozen peddles
Mumbling a worded imposition
Same as yesterday and day before
Ohh, the moon has cased its gesture
Just right at the socketed loony disposition
Same as yesterday and day before
The dawn has woken to its pleasure