Stuck together for the winter
I still feel your old place, I hear the radiator breathing up the hallway
Where we’d put ourselves back together
Counting cards but losing every game we play
I find you working in the garden
You plant with the seasons, you spend December planning, waiting on the spring
When we’d put ourselves back together
The final frost is always later than we think
Well if you cast your lot
With things that rot
And if you chase the past for too long, ya might end up there and By the time you
realize how you spent your time
And try to orchestrate a way home I hope it’s all clear
I hope it’s all clear
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