It’s snowing, in Seattle The picture, on the mantle Of you in, the apartment The colors, are starting To disappear
It’s colder, in December And I still, remember The way that, you slipped through The window, the morning That you appeared
But you’ve been floating far away from here But you’ve been floating far away from here
And when, the souls, of working men Will warm, you up, you’ll melt again And flood, into, the crowded street Hoping to find my feet… my feet…
But you’ve been floating far away from here But you’ve been floating far away from here
And when, the souls, of working men Will warm, you up, you’ll melt again And flood, into, the crowded street Hoping to find my feet… my feet… Hoping to find my feet (Hoping to find my feet, Hoping to find my feet)