I face this gray and solemn light
but still I live, with all my might
And when the days turn long and bright
I think that I would find it nice

I hate this season’s crystal hand
baring trees and freezing land
To have someone who understands
I think that I would find it nice

I track the slippery streets alone
Hope for hope, but I find none
I pray aloud that she’ll come home
I know she’d ease this grip of ice

And I think that I would find it nice