Cold melancholic

The wind came sweeping like a sleeve of snow Hit the corner of the building, had nowhere else to go I didn't have the time to turn my face Just a sharp and frosty slap right in this empty place I tuck my chin down deep into my coat Pull the collar up tight against my throat Holding back the wind, holding back the chill Walking through the dark, where the world is standing still

It ain't that late, but the streets are dead Just the blizzard running through the alleys, messing with my head Biting at my wrists in the fading light Not a single living soul in sight Then I hear a whisper and I spin around Just a torn-up paper poster flapping on the ground Talking to the plastic in a dull and dizzy chatter Saying nothing at all, like it doesn't even matter

I try to think of summer, try to think of home But the warm thoughts shatter like a frozen stone I’m picking up my pace through the heavy chill But the wind is pushing hard, and it always will It’s tearing at my coat, it’s tearing at the seams I just need to get inside, away from the extremes Yeah, the city is a ghost town, quiet and deep I just need to get home, before I fall asleep

The streetlamp’s squeaking like a weeping ghost Shining on the pavement where the shadows are the most I pull my hands down deep inside my pockets Keep my head down low, like a bird inside its socket Every step is heavy, every breath is white Swallowed by the silence of the winter night

Cause I try to think of summer, try to think of home But the warm thoughts shatter like a frozen stone I’m picking up my pace through the heavy chill But the wind is pushing hard, and it always will It’s tearing at my coat, it’s tearing at the seams I just need to get inside, away from the extremes Yeah, the city is a ghost town, quiet and deep I just need to get home, before I fall asleep