It is a lonely rainy Sunday on Hicksville’s dirty streets

Only some transient, blurry shadows doing non-essential deeds

No one anticipates, the dire menace waits

Prowling for this sweet young thing

She isn’t able to resists them

As they entice her with these words

Come on and join the vertigo

I’m sure you’ll love the snow

It doesn’t matter what’s to come

Or what you’ve tried before

A lot of snow fell in the meantime and days are closing in

From time to time she would appear again

Straying, unshod, frail and thin

One day she disappeared

No single word was heard

She was never seen again

But if you listen very carefully

You can hear her softly sing