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The Gathering
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On Most Surfaces (Inuit)
The frost hits me in the eye
and wakes me
these are blury winters
and I cannot see
I walk into the white light of the snow
when the sun comes
I break it with my shadow
which tales me where I go
The frost hits me in the eye
and wakes me
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I am the snow falling down on you
I tear up your face with my frost
And make you run to somewhere warm
When I come I see you get away
I burst out about your emptyness
The frost hits me in the eye
and wakes me
these are blury winters
and I cannot see
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