Heading for the start of the season,
There's no rhyme and no reason,
To feel this pain,
It's a crying shame,
The lonesome shadows cry,
For people walking by,
For you a simple sign,
Of the seasons, passing you by.
Winter's cloak is leaving,
Rebirth in Spring for dreaming,
For some people,
Life is but a jest,
The glistening panes of glass,
Reflect a life so sad,
Sands of time now running fast,
For you the future, is buried in your past.