Oh, how the wintry skies do dull the mind,
for with a slow movement, the greys colour time,
ever oppressing the feelings,
and the pleasure of such a sunshine,
that can be found in the mind,
a mind that would rather walk in the light,
than be shrouded in the greyest of climbs,
for ever to ascend, is better than to descend in such grey,
and the likeness of colour, to happiness may be dismayed,
for oh, how the heart it cries for the lack of a summer’s day,
and oh, how the heart it cries, how it cries,
because of the lack of sunshine to light our way.