Everything seemed to be holding its breath
It was the first real snow for years
It made everything look beautiful
And I wanted it to stay like this
I hung like a tongue from my open-mouth window
Thinking I should make the most of this
I climbed to the once familiar hill
Where the rambling roses were sleeping and stared
Down towards the park where you once said
It was full of giant snow balls
Families played in the snow
Wishing I could burst into flames
Or disappear or something
And through the storm I saw
On the old wall of the old bridge
The New Urban Prophet inscribed in white
Talking to me through the howling winds
End up talking to themselves
And I wanted it to stay like this so bad
The sky, it opened up into a dream
Talking to me through the howling winds
The sky, it opened up into a dream
Talking to me through the howling winds
Talking to me through the howling winds