The chill of the winter is bitter and bleak The snow on the pathway is heavy and deep So I dig in my shovel and lift it on high Im going to shovel this snow til I die The end of the road looks like freedom to me I walk past the hours, I walk past the weeks And the months fall behind as I pass the years by Im going to walk down this road til I die Til I die Im going to walk down this road til I die Til I die Im going to walk down this road til I die I sit on my own and no word do I speak The skys in my head and the grounds on my feet But no pleasures delight, no tears do I cry Im going to sit on my own til I die Til I die Im going to sit on my own til I die Til I die Im going to sit on my own til I die The sound of the ocean, my feet in the sand The chill of the wind, the lie of the land The drops on my skull, the gulls lonely sound The thunder, the lightning, the rain pouring down Til I die Til I die Til I die Til I die Til I die The years are a moment, the centuries pass I walk from the first and I crawl to the last But the silence surrounds me, in stillness I lie Im going to pass through these days til I die Til I die Im going to pass through these days til I die Til I die Im going to pass through these days til I die
til, die, going, pas, walk