snowless winter...
Oh, how I miss the snow
And in this city that I hate,
I don't make sense to anyone.
Does anyone know
What wonders the night can hold in the cold?
Can there be inspiration without the snow-
Covered wandering streets gently moonlit
Chimneys and frost-covered window panes?

snowless winter is living death.
Breathing out air without seeing your breath,
I'm depressed
And I'm stupid and foolish.
Your sick sunny palm trees are creepy and ghoulish!
I hate myself more than anyone else in this city
And it soothes me to know most of them will be dead
In a hundred years of snowless winters.

snowless winter...
Oh, how I miss the snow
And in this city that I hate,
I don't make sense to anyone.
Does anyone know
What wonders the night can hold in the cold?
Can there be inspiration without the snow-
Covered wandering streets gently moonlit
Chimneys and frost-covered window panes?