It’s snowing, in Seattle
The picture, on the mantle
Of you in, the apartment
The colors, are starting
To disappear

It’s colder, in December
And I still, remember
The way that, you slipped through
The window, the morning
That you appeared

But you’ve been floating far away from here
But you’ve been floating far away from here

And when, the souls, of working men
Will warm, you up, you’ll melt again
And flood, into, the crowded street
Hoping to find my feet… my feet…

But you’ve been floating far away from here
But you’ve been floating far away from here

And when, the souls, of working men
Will warm, you up, you’ll melt again
And flood, into, the crowded street
Hoping to find my feet… my feet…
Hoping to find my feet
(Hoping to find my feet,
Hoping to find my feet)