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.