My dreams are leaden
With the weight of my past.
They pin me passionless
To my bed,
Some heavy handed vice
Clamped to my wrist.
Oh, crucifix,

You keep me martyred in my sheets,
The slate grey sky at my window
And northern wind that rattles the walls.
It’s enough to keep me in.

Your name passes by,
With features ill-defined.
A solution of Thyme,
Left to waste.
With heat of flame I’m
Left to dissolve.
Oh, perennial,

I suffered long, oh city streets,
Bite of cold from my belt buckle.
I dress swiftly to brave city sprawls.
It’s enough to keep me in,

It’s enough to keep me in,
When winter is at the door.