The story begins when I was brand new,
My heart is cold, but the story is true.
Falling, falling, on a cold winter day
"Father, Father! Snow!," the boy did say.
He gave me a name, just like a mother.
"I know, go to sleep," said his dear father.
"Father?"the boy said, "are we going to die?"
A fire burned, and I began to fry.
The father turned and on me he stepped,
"Sometime, not now" he half sadly said.
The fires, red, soon turned to a gray hush,
the boys enlarged wonder still, did it crush,
and in the darkness words formed as he lay,
"What would you do, if I passed away?"
"If you died, I would want to die too."
And with that speech, we will have to make do.
In the dark I could sense the man was down,
his soul, slowly, beginning to drown.
Diving into his thoughts, all alone,
his mind thought, "if only my heart were stone."
For in the cold and the silence he prayed
Dear God, Oh God, why do you always fade?
Danm you eternally, have you a soul?
Oh God, he whispered why this danm hole?
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