• .............

    Beneath this snowy mantle cold and clean
    The unborn grass lies waiting for its coat to turn to green
    The snowbird sings the song he always sings
    And speaks to me of flowers that will bloom again in spring

    When I was young my heart was young then, too
    Anything that it would tell me, that's the thing that I would do
    But now I feel such emptiness within
    For the thing that I want most in life's the thing that I can't win

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