So Strange

that it's warm in December
winter cold is slow in arriving
the horizon hangs on a dull sun
and I am the last one to know

that the winds blow from the south
the clouds scud to my heartbeat's sound
tomorrow brings a promise of snow
but I'll be the last one to know

that our love has reached a December
warm hand pressed against my cheek
ten thousand tomorrows have come and gone
I was always the last one to know

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