|
When the summer fled past my window
|
and autumn's chill was in the air
|
there was a special kind of lonesome
|
'round that ending time of year.
|
When the leaves fell
|
and they drifted 'neath the trees that soon were bare
|
I felt that wind blow,
|
ever colder,
|
and suddenly,
|
you were there.
|
We laughed and scuffled
|
while the snow fell
|
and the cold gave your cheecks a glow.
|
And in your arms come evening
|
a kind of peace I know.
|
Often I'd wake at midnight
|
mid some icy winter storm,
|
and then I would find you
|
beside me,
|
and you made the night seem so warm.
|
Now I go my way
|
and you go your way
|
now that the winter's come and gone.
|
But somehow
|
with the springtime
|
your golden warmth still lingers on.
|
|
|
|
-----------------
|
Winter Song
|
| Harry Chapin |
