the ice cube is crying
on its way down your back

loosen the rope, please
first of all, around my neck

will the drool from my lips
silence the wolfs around the moon

drag their ass home to find out
the story that they all along knew

warm milk creates a partner
as the blanket covers the winter fat

are we not like the gardener
that greets each new spring wearing an old hat

it's not the cold that froze us
and laid us out like bills in a fountain

it's comfort, romantic or desperate,
depends on how you'd tell a child of a mountain