Head down in the snow, arms moving to fly
looking upwards, waiting for angels coming by
lay there a while, turn cold and blue
nothing will come of it, just like you
time wasted instead of spent
wittling away at the safety net
the flakes fall down and struggle to stand
why must it be this way, why's there no hand
to hold anymore, to offer comfort needed
bootstraps pulled, a change of season
on the outside smiling and inside bleeding
rise from the cold and decide not to die
yet another day, which one won't go by?