Vārdi: Sting. You Only Cross My Mind In Winter.

:
Always this winter child,
December's sun sits low against the sky
Cold light on frozen fields,
The cattle in their stable lowing.

When two walked this winter road,
Ten thousand miles seemed nothing to us then,
Now one walks with heavy tread
The space between their footsteps slowing

All day the snow did fall,
What's left of the day is close drawn in,
I speak your name as if you'd answer me,
But the silence of the snow is deafening

How well do I recall our arguments,
Our logic owed no debts or recompense,
Philosophy and faith were ghosts
That we would chase until
The gates of heaven were broken

But something makes me turn, I don't know,
To see another's footsteps there in the snow,
I smile to myself and then I wonder why it is
You only cross my mind in winter