I took the bus down Bathurst Street and saw where
All the lonely people meet down there
I sat on a pile of cigarettes and blew
Icicles with one sharp breath towards you
There's black ice, no sign
Temper me and temper this I've tried
To fit in everything in a small time
The winter brings a heaviness, this weight
Is a hand over the things I shouldn't say
There's black ice, no sign