He cuts the cobalt blue and red
The winter sun is nearly dead
The apple trees are stripped and white
He waits inside the dying light
His fingers bleed a heavy stain
The frozen earth forgets the rain
He builds a window for the wind
Where all the broken edges bend
Fragmented colors in the frost
Counting everything he lost
Shattered light on a winter floor
He cannot find the open door
The lead is thick and heavy gray
He works the frozen hours away
A jagged piece of amber gold
A story that is never told
Fragmented colors in the frost
Counting everything he lost
Shattered light on a winter floor
He cannot find the open door
One sharp piece of emerald green
The coldest sight he ever seen
The orchard sleeps in heavy white
He chases down the ghost of light
He drops the solder on the frame
He does not even know his name
The glass is sharp and cuts the air
A lonely man in deep despair
The moon is rising thin and cold
The silver patterns now unfold
He lays the pieces in a row
Beneath the heavy blanket snow
Fragmented colors in the frost
Counting everything he lost
Shattered light on a winter floor
He cannot find the open door
Broken glass, white snow.
Let the winter go.
