On Most Surfaces

On Most Surfaces - The Gathering

The frost hits me in the eyeand wakes methese are blury wintersand I cannot seeI walk into the white light of the snowwhen the sun comesI break it with my shadowwhich tales me where I goThe frost hits me in the eyeand wakes meI am the snow falling down on youI tear up your face with my frostAnd make you run to somewhere warmWhen I come I see you get awayI burst out about your emptynessThe frost hits me in the eyeand wakes methese are blury wintersand I cannot see