Oh miss believer my pretty sleeper
Your twisted mind
Is like snow on the road
Your shaking shoulders prove
That its colder
Inside your head
Is a winter of death
I will tell you I love you
But the muffs on your ears
Cater your fears
My nose and feet
Are running as we start
To travel through snow
Together we go
We get colder
As we grow older
We will walk
So much slower
Oh miss believer
My pretty weeper
Your twisted thoughts
Are like snow
On the rooftops
Please
Take my hand
We're in a foreign land
As we travel through snow
Together we go
We get colder
As we grow older
We will walk
So much slower