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Looking through this window
I can see the first winter snowflakes
landing in the door-yard
All is gray above, no rainbow
Looking through my window
I can see my everlasting lovely folks
wandering in the fog
They're all my friends, so I bow
And at dusk they glimmer
like a garland of light along the street
Each of them serves as a beacon guiding me to my fate
Looking down from this tower
I can see my footprints in the snow
getting smaller and smaller
All's being swept by the wind
Looking down from my tower
I can see many of fuzzy regrets
giving way to relief
All has become easier
And at dusk they glimmer
like a garland of light along the street
Each of them serves as a beacon guiding me to my fate
But am I worth the trouble? I think so
My future's been already mapped out