This winter wind that blows in me,
Used to be,
Promise of spring,
A summer breeze,
It might be,
The final curtain coming down,
I'm in the bonus rounds,
If your life is like mine,
Pretty soon you'll find,
That time makes a young man wise,
Still you might see,
Regret in this old man's eyes,
Come the ringing bell,
I'll meet the voice that's calling,
For those who knew me well,
I won't soon be forgotten,
Peace won't come if your peace depends,
On the hope,
Of finding that which never ends,
Hold tightly,
The gift of all you have today,
It will be gone someday,
Everything in the end,
Will be made good again,
So trust in the author's pen,
Faith is a lucky coin,
That few ever learn to spend,
But you can be sure I spent it well,
For each thing I've forgotten,
You could fall in to what I have left to tell,
And never reach the bottom