Of North Of North Stars 

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?