Speak slowly, tongue of winter Leak only strokes of bright moonlight.
These streets I‘ve weaved with hunger Repeatedly with white sheet eyes. Quiver through the nights
Beneath a lonesome moon, I hear, This city croons to me, no other. With dark descending phantoms Haunts hoary heads the longest wail
Their hollow beat of footsteps Will follow me midst snowy trail
Beneath a lonesome moon, I hear, This city croons to me, no other. Releasing all too soon, I’m near; To her my chest gives in, no other (The grieving streetlights monitored me well, since all was but frost)