You can get to me

Anytime you please

But come Winter,

We know, we’ll be up on our feet.

Come Winter, we know

we’ll be smelling so sweet,

Golden roses, now frozen

Under a solid sheet

Of icicle kisses that seal our lips

And chill our bodies, down 

To our brittle fingertips-

Come Winter,

We’ll be shining with the salt of the sea,

Come Winter, we’ll be in Old New Orleans.

And it’s a good time coming.

It’s a blue streak running

Down those slippery sides,

Too soon, we’ll find it crystallized

Into a snowflake teardrop,

Unlike any other.

It’s gonna be all mine.

Come Winter,

We’ll be feeling so fine.