Under the cover of the snow

there is a place you don’t know,

yet.

Cause it’s too soon, you say,

too soon.

 

The crescent moon

rests on the sky,

the snow blanket is heavy and high.

And so I stamp through the trebly snow,

I stamp through the trebly snow.

 

The sun sets behind the arctic hill.

Snowy trees in colours of rose and blue fill

me.

They embrace my soul,

my blue blue soul.

 

And soon it’s all blue,

the sky, the ground and the song,

that I found

from my mind,

while you’re pretending to be blind,

pretending to be blind.

 

The blissy, icy air

tingles my cheeks

and pricks my skin while it speaks

in a language of warmth and pain,

a language of warmth and pain.

 

Under the cover of your snow,

there is a place that I’d like you to show

to me.

Not only in a dream,

not only in a dream.

 

So let me dig into that trebly snow,

let me embrace your deepest fears

and dry all your tears

with my blue blue song,

my blue blue song.

 

Let’s sing together in the light of the sun and the moon,

our songs of rose and blue.

It is not too soon,

it is not too soon.

 

Let me find my peace,

my faith

under the cover of your snow,

the cover of your snow.