| When you see a solitary glove in the snow
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| Do you think, «where did the other one go?»
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| And hats and scarves and days, all of our days
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| Do you see the ghostly tracks in the ground?
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| The light the dark has found
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| That not unlovely all-caressing grace
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| It’s hanging in the air like a question mark
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| A face you’ll never see, a fire left unsparked
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| Naked as the earth, unbound and set apart
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| Yes, December will come
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| Yes, December will go
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| Bringing hope in its wake
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| Bringing what, I don’t know
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| Like a water on a bough, winter in your head
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| The brittleness of days will surely pass instead
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| December will come, but it will go
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| Let it snow, but not for picturesque shows
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| Not for sleighs or globes
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| Not for hills and certainly not for lovers
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| Let it snow to hide the graves we make
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| Of losses and mistakes
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| And years of which we’d hate to see another
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| Turn your face and hands gently to the light
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| Lose some of the wrongs you know you’ll never right
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| Naked as the day, naked as the night
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| Yes, December will come
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| Yes, December will go
 | 
| Bringing hope in its wake
 | 
| Bringing what, I don’t know
 | 
| Like a water on a bough, winter in your head
 | 
| The brittleness of days will surely pass instead
 | 
| December will come, but it will go
 | 
| Turn your face and hands gently to the light
 | 
| Lose some of the wrongs you know you’ll never right
 | 
| Naked as the day, naked as the night
 | 
| Yes, December will come
 | 
| Yes, December will go
 | 
| Bringing hope in its wake
 | 
| Bringing what, I don’t know
 | 
| Like a water on a bough, winter in your head
 | 
| The brittleness of days will surely pass instead
 | 
| December will come
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| December will come
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| December will come, but it will go
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| Surely it will go |