Winter is moving in and it looks as if you may run away,
at least that's what you say.
It's winter.
How can the seasons be your excuse?
It's been winter in your soul for years.
When are you going to realize
that winter is just a state of mind?
When are you going to realize
that what you're drinking won't keep you
from thinking of me?
Every bottle pulls you further from where you'd like to be,
but that's something you just don't see.
It's winter.
How can I show you the winter outside is never so bleak
as the winter of your mind?
When are you going to realize
that winter is just a state of mind?
When are you going to realize
that what you're drinking won't keep you
from thinking of me?
Of the ocean?
Of all those wasted years?