Hollow naked ground.

I can't relate to what little song the bird had chose to sing,

it's winter now and oh my heart it longs for joys of spring

I'm caught within the shades of grey and hollow naked ground,

whilst my mind it wonders deepest into loves flowers bound,

I can't help but see the shadows, I feel them on my flesh to hold,

I'm blue inside, and can't provide the warmth amidst the cold,

I call to you for shelter, the cottage from the rainy sky,

I saw that little bird again Flying, gliding by,

and I could not relate to flying, I had no wings yet arms to hold,

I felt the depths of winter falling, like ice So brazen chilled to bone,

I felt the flame dispute the season and low to burn recalled the flame,

I hadn't heard the song of winter, spring was foremost in my heart and eyes ,

The flowers and the bees were calling The way the sun does rise,

I fell into the depths of winter, and rugged to body covered flesh ,

held you in the morning light, frozen together woven meshed,

The bird returned to sing his song, of winters breathing, by a rose ,

and clinging to the thorns of heaven, were his little toes,

I hadn't payed so much attention a harmonious song he loved to sing,

he sung there every given day, and brought the sounds of spring,

I thought I hadn't heard such songs, but knew the chorus as my own,

miles that little bird would travel, miles had He flown.