It is draughty in here,
draughty in here,
with the windows broken and boarded up,
and there is a light bulb flickering,
and people gathered around a fire.
People trying to keep out of the winter snows,
in the mountains where no one hardly goes,
people hoping to live, people hoping to survive;
their old homes destroyed by avalanches elsewhere,
and here, where life is subject to nature and its cold,
and where life is harsh and difficult,
and where lives are lived with hardly any material things,
what great smiles upon the faces of all there are, as they dance and sing next to the fire with their faces aglow,
with their faces aglow and with smiles on their faces,
smiles that are warm enough to melt the winter snows,
smiles that are warm enough to melt the winter snows.
