The birds crow a weeping melody, trees clean of leaves The warm lights of autumn, disappear with a winters breeze New seasons bring wonder, happiness and memories But my last winter was with you, and this year you’re dead to me In the past you had promised, that you would never leave But tis the season I suppose, cuz you did it with ease Brandish all the mistletoe, I won’t let you see me grieve It’s only a heartbreak, but this will be my last winter I believe.