I see the first snow falling on the ground
People bolting their doors
Fearing the winters frown
I feel the cold and wet air creeping up my bones
With every year going by, I am getting too old at once
Irene I fear this might be the last winter I am here
We chose this piece of land cause it was built by my father's hand
We could have moved to the city, head for a promised land
We could have made a lot of money, if the soil hadn't turned red
Everything we put into the ground, shortly was dead
I would have had children but the lord didn't think so
I am glad I had you, all through getting old
If my time is now to come, I am ready my things are done
Just give me one last beam of the bright and warming sun
Irene this might be the last winter for me I fear
