Maybe I'm happy,
deep down below.
Covered by miles and miles of snow.
But down here it's cold,
and dark,
like night, sixfold.

So, I'm stuck down here
with my fear,
of winter never ending.

But when I'm with you,
and I am mending,
I smile,
a real one for awhile.
And the snow is melting,
my joy, overwhelming.

So, maybe I'll sit in the trees
underneath the summer sun, feeling free
with you. Maybe.