Here I sit in my chair Having cut off all my hair Feeling the wind on my mind But not a breeze I can find
I sit and think about the cold The grey sky And the days of old How I wished the winter would go by But maybe here it stays for all these days And after itβs all done, and Iβll leave feeling fairly high But how I wish the winter would go by
Does it all have a meaning, or do some things just happen?