| The temperature’s through the floor
|
| Your fingers are turning black
|
| There’s a crisis knocking at your door
|
| (One nine seven seven)
|
| (One nine seven seven)
|
| You’d better try to make it home
|
| The snow is getting too deep to drive
|
| Your car might be a coffin
|
| (One nine seven seven)
|
| (One nine seven seven)
|
| We’re never gonna see the summer
|
| This season is coming, long and hard
|
| Yeah this town is going under
|
| This season’s going to kill us all
|
| Catch the snowflakes little children
|
| Count them as they bury you alive
|
| Count them as they choke the road ways
|
| A blizzard’s coming in the year punk died
|
| (One nine seven seven)
|
| This season has left us all helpless
|
| I can’t see and even God is blind
|
| And deaf to all your prayers
|
| (One nine seven seven)
|
| (One nine seven seven)
|
| There’s nothing that you can do
|
| This weather’s stronger than us all
|
| The sky is going to crush you
|
| (One nine seven seven)
|
| (One nine seven seven)
|
| This season’s growing cold
|
| I fear that this could be the end
|
| And there’s no sign of hope
|
| We’ve got a crisis on our hands
|
| The junkie is stuck indoors
|
| Pretty soon he’s gonna need a fix
|
| But the weather’s not gonna let him
|
| And he’s starting to get the itch
|
| The season’s holding us all hostage
|
| Better do whatever it demands
|
| Nature knows that we’ve got a crisis
|
| Weighing on our frostbitten hands
|
| One
|
| There’s nothing that you can do
|
| The sky is gonna crush you
|
| Nine
|
| There’s nothing that you can do
|
| The sky is gonna crush you
|
| Seven
|
| There’s nothing that you can do
|
| The sky is gonna crush you
|
| Seven
|
| There’s nothing that you can do
|
| The sky is gonna crush you
|
| This season’s growing cold
|
| I fear that this could be the end
|
| And there’s no sign of hope
|
| We’ve got a crisis on our hands |