its cold and snow's actually on the ground of this no-snow town.
and instead of cars, street's trafficking in sleds.
men become boys again.
and there's a war on the corner with no guaranteed winner.
its just a snow fall of snow balls, evidence of the winter.

And i can feel my hands again.
we're almost home.

it's 2 pm and our snow is falling still as our good city lay still.
and our friends are packed around some no smoking bar
warming on alcohol.
we step into the silence, yeah, we step slowly and quiet.

All boys come on and girls join up
just don't grow old.
All boys come on and girls join up
we're almost home

This is all we want:
Time to be with us,
a home to lift the cold.

Still cold, the snow's turning into rain and melting away.
All these days slip by us
so let's keep them.