As the winter winds litter London with lonely hearts. The warmth in your eyes swept me into your arms. Was it love or fear of the cold that led us through the night? For every kiss your beauty trumped my doubt. We'll be washed and buried one day my girl, and the time we were given will be left for the world. The flesh that lived and loved will be eaten by plague. So let the memories be good for those who stay. The shame that sent me off from the God that I once loved, was the same that sent me into your arms. Pestilence is won when you are lost and I am gone, and no hope, no hope will overcome. And if your strife strikes at your sleep, remember spring swaps snow for leaves. You'll be happy and wholesome again, when the city clears and sun ascends.