Father

His eyes are true blue,
in these irreal days,
snow is white Father
painting our loneliness
with endless patience,
in a picture of your face,
melt in hot tears,
white snow flakes,
on my cold window.

He sees through,
only us, us two,
in a pearl Love,
blows the poower,
into the room -
to multiply the desire.

Thank you snow,
Oh, Thank you snow -
thank you white Father;
I love your daughter so.

His hands protect,
the wisdom,
behind his face,
crying cold tears
over the desk of the world.

And the message is in the sorm,
just listen to the signs,
in the blue dark rain.

Oh, Thank you Father,
thank you white snow -
I love your daughter so.

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