I cannot tell if the storm is coming, or if it passed long ago...
Is this not the same place in which most men die?
That night, as I laid bed, stories running through my mind, with a groan and creak, I lifted my head, then I understood, and I cried
Some songs get you going and remind you who you are. This morning as I drove to work, this song came on and I listened especially intently to the words.
Cold winter creeping in with a blizzard and a whiteout without any reason other than, "this is how things are done around here."