| Happiness is only real when you share it. |
| Snow that thickens with the trees, and how they wear it. |
| Clambering up from my bed in a blanket. |
| How I find you shivering at the heathens. |
| with a thin light leaning on, |
| all the awning you have done. |
| It’s a grey snow, and grey swans. |
| It’s an orange while at dawn. |
| It’s not the weight that brings you down, it’s how you carry it. |
| I had to change it, |
| I had to change it. |
| Now the dreams can stay with you, through the morning. |
| Covering the way she looks, at the orphan. |
| While the girls will smoke, the lake is reflecting, |
| all the copper leaves. |
| Spinning like a set, of keys. |
| The wind was jingling. |
| And saying, «Come on girl, it’s time, to go for a ride. |
| Girl, it’s time, to go for a ride, |
| Girl, it’s time, to go for a ride.» |
| It’s a thin twig holding straw, |
| that the blackbirds laid upon, |
| for the length of the radio song, |
| before they shovel on. |
| It’s not the weight that brings you down, it’s how you carry it. |
| I had to change it, |
| I had to change it. |
| How I find your bobby-pins on my floor. |
| How I know that morning will bring more. |
| How I find your underwear in my dryer, |
| and a strand of blonde hair, on my shoulder. |
| Even when you’re gone. |
| Even when you bend, like a swan. |
| The wind was rustling. |
| All the things you leave, and says |
| «It's time for a ride. |
| Girl, it’s time, to go for a ride, |
| Girl, it’s time, to go for a ride, |
| Girl, it’s time, to go for a ride.» |