In the darkness of December,
as I tried hard to remember my love and me.
Years upon years ago,
in a little cottage in the snow,
a mystical forest,
trees without any leaves.

As we sit upon the floor,
wind shaking the door,
fire crackling next to my love and me.
We smiles and we laughed,
and in this cold, dark December,
as well as I remember,
we sat there very happy.

But then the biting wind blew,
and I soon knew we wouldn't be so happy.
The wind blew so much harder,
and blew the fire out.
It chilled my dearest love.
He grew sick and is now above.
There is no longer my love and me.