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Oh, Miss Believer, my pretty sleeper Your twisted mind is like snow on the road Your shaking shoulders prove that it's colder Inside your head Than the winter of dead I will tell you I love you But the muffs on your ears will cater your fears My nose and feet are running as we start To travel through snow Together we go We get colder As we grow older We will walk So much slower Oh, Miss Believer, my pretty weeper Your twisted thoughts are like snow on the rooftops Please, take my hand, we're in foreign land As we travel through snow Together we go We get colder As we grow older We will walk So much slower From Letras Mania