The bright sun outside the winter window
Deceitful speeches whisper so often
There, out the window, it's -32
He isn't coming, and you're so unhappy
He's in a warm apartment, wrapped in a rug
Watching TV shows non-stop
He's making excuses for himself, that he's old, he's 30
And at that moment, he doesn't care what they say about him
But you're not sad, it makes sense to wait
Makes sense to wait, when the snow is getting dark
When the cats on the roof start to meow nervously
He will crawl in, but you'll tell him "no"
But you tell him "no"
But you tell him "no" in your best dress
But you tell him "no"
But you tell him "no" with a bottle of wine
But you tell him "no"
But you tell him "no" and softly stroke
And then he knows what winter is
What winter is