This year's going to be colder than ever.
The wind is a bit harsh in Northern England.
And here I stand at Corn Exchange;
Waiting for bus number 51.
My friends are grooving in the jazz club;
My lover seems to be busy with his stuff.
And I am trying hard to remember, if;
Anything good happened to us in the past.
Winter's going to be a bit early this year.
There is a heavy snow alert in Yorkshire.
And my phone notifies me of the texts
From my secret admirers.
I know whom to take to my bed tonight,
I know whom to kiss on their thighs,
I know whom to seduce for another coffee date;
And I know who'll keep the marks of my bites.
My phone tells me to wait for half an hour.
Buses are late due to road construction.
I light up a cigarette to see the smoke;
Coiling up with each other.
And I wonder if I could ever coil up
With someone like that.
Each night I take a new man to my bed.
Each night I hold them for another hour.
Each night I try my best to keep it warm.
Each night my sweet passion turns sour.
And I start to walk to my accommodation.
Who knows; I might cross the road with the one.
And then I sigh a cold breath;
Just like the wind of Yorkshire.
Moonstruck 