Hull
When Winter's shadowy fingers first pursue you down the street
And your boots no longer lie about the cold around your feet
Do you spare a thought for summer whose passage is complete
Whose memories lie in ruins and whose ruins lie in heat
When winter... comes howling in.
When the wind is singing strangely, blowing music thru your head
And your rain splattered windows make you decide to stay in bed
Do you spare a thought for the homeless tramp who wishes he was dead
...
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