The coldest winter now. Conceived in a snowstorm; you're homeless in the womb, of a hard bit-young mom. hopeless in the womb, and I will cry for you, but I doubt that it'll do anything to get you through
The coldest winter now. Snow covers cold and clean, the trees are white and green, like some frozen dream you had back when you were a teen, with your parents on your ass, your house of broken glass, always feeling harassed, sure it would soon pass.
But the winter never does; it just hovers there above, keeping you from love, white as hell and grey as doves.
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