Old glass panes are cracked and grey
Winter wind has blown the day
Ferns are frozen in the cold
Stories that the rusted hold
The iron frame is bending low
Where the bitter north winds blow
Wait for one white wing to glide
Bringing warmth from deep inside
White wings turn the midnight bright
Lighting up the greenhouse night
Golden eyes and silver feather
Holding all the broken together
Perched upon a wooden beam
Waking up a dormant dream
Sifting through the jagged shards
Watching over garden yards
The iron frame is bending low
Where the bitter north winds blow
Wait for one white wing to glide
Bringing warmth from deep inside
White wings turn the midnight bright
Lighting up the greenhouse night
Golden eyes and silver feather
Holding all the broken together
He don't mind the leaking roof
Of the winter he is proof
Counting seeds in potting soil
Ending all the gardener's toil
Salt is stinging on the breeze
Rattling through the cedar trees
One steady beat above the floor
Guarding every open door
White wings turn the midnight bright
Lighting up the greenhouse night
Golden eyes and silver feather
Holding all the broken together
Moon is hiding in the haze
Counting down the lonely days
Still he keeps the lantern glow
While the heavy white frosts grow
White wings turn the midnight bright
Lighting up the greenhouse night
Golden eyes and silver feather
Holding all the broken together
Keep the lamp lit.
Just one white wing.
Glass and gold.
