Looking through this window 
I can see the first winter snowflakes 
landing in the door-yard 
All is gray above, no rainbow 

Looking through my window 
I can see my everlasting lovely folks 
wandering in the fog 
They're all my friends, so I bow 

And at dusk they glimmer 
like a garland of light along the street 
Each of them serves as a beacon guiding me to my fate 

Looking down from this tower 
I can see my footprints in the snow 
getting smaller and smaller 
All's being swept by the wind 

Looking down from my tower 
I can see many of fuzzy regrets 
giving way to relief 
All has [bad word] easier 

And at dusk they glimmer 
like a garland of light along the street 
Each of them serves as a beacon guiding me to my fate 

But am I worth the trouble ? I think so 
My future's been already mapped out