Wintertime is our time. The low sun flickering
through railings. Piccadilly and coffee cups.
Looking through the eyes of love. Wintertime is
our time. Moonlight on snow. It's where we were
born, it's home. It's where we were born, it's
home.

And now that you're finally in my arms to stay,
there is no ache. No longing, no sense of loss,
when the cold air whispers all about us. Of you of
me, of us.

bench by the channel. cave by a castle. Places
we tried to say goodbye. Someone new to miss. tentative gift. The first butterflies, the first
butterflies.

And now that you're finally in my arms to stay,
there is no ache. No longing, no sense of loss,
when the cold air whispers all about us. Of you of
me, of us.

That promise I made, I was never going to keep it.
Wasn't there always hope? Or is that just me,
rewriting history? Is it easy to say that now,
there's no taxi cab to bring us down? Now that the
time that's ours doesn't have to feel like [bad word] out.

And now that you're finally in my arms to stay,
there is no ache. No longing, no sense of loss,
when the cold air whispers all about us. Of you of
me, of us.

Moonlight on snow.