You walk through the frozen row
Where the winter apples grow
Grey sky turns a heavy blue
And the frost is clinging true
Tangled in the silver white
Hiding from the coming night
Leather gloves on frozen ground
Waiting for a missing sound
Your fingers trace a jagged line
Around the twisted apple vine
One glove left in a lonely heap
While the dormant branches sleep
Tangled in the silver white
Hiding from the coming night
Leather gloves on frozen ground
Waiting for a missing sound
The wool is damp against your skin
Where the biting air creeps in
You reach for the missing pair
Through the sharp and brittle air
The sunset turns the orchard gold
A story that the branches hold
You pull the leather from the snow
And feel the heavy tension go
The grip of winter starts to break
As the sleeping gardens wake
You hold both hands in one tight hold
Safe against the sudden cold
Tangled in the silver white
Hiding from the coming night
Leather gloves on frozen ground
Waiting for a missing sound
Now the path is clear and wide
With the warmth of home inside
The orchard fades to velvet black
As you find the steady track
Tangled in the silver white
Hiding from the coming night
Leather gloves on frozen ground
Waiting for a missing sound
Hold them tight, hold them fast
Winter's grip is gone at last (Ooh, ooh)
(Gone at last)
