January's always bitter,. but Lord this one beats all. The wind ain't quit for weeks now,. and the drifts are ten feet tall. I been all night drivin' heifers.
Hold me now I need to feel relief. Like I never wanted anything. I suppose I'll let this go and find a reason I'll hold on to. I'm so ashamed of defeat.
Your still the stars lose their glory. Your still the birds fail to sing. Yours til the end of life's story. My love to you dear, I'll bring. Your in the grey of December.