Bay Laurel

(The 5:th of February 1994. A frozen world outside my window)
In a landscape so shimmering white.
Under a cold sky so blue.
They look so sad in their dresses of cold.
Maybe they long to be in another world.
Their arms, stretched to the sky.
To the horizon they long to fly.
Lost under sorrow silver they mourn the days that died.
Frozen arms stretched out to touch the sky.
Winter flight...
Their arms, stretched to the sky.
To the horizon they long to fly