in this dying season

this is a song i wrote. it can be played with D, A, Em, G
it was winter when i met you in the snowy mountain state. you were wearing sweaters made of wool, hand-crafted by your beautiful hands. they were delicate. and you told me you would love to engage in conversation over lunch sometime in the snow and cold of december. because eveything we often bring results in the way we feel. im not telling you what i need, but please do anything for me or for you. and now theres several layers of cold, icy snow forming on the ground below us. in this december chill, i will die all alone in my bedroom. you never returned my call. and i thought everything would be all right, i guess i take things too far sometimes. my mom says let it go but its too hard sometimes, you know, to let something leave your mind.