All this cold
All this snow
My face is punched up
Like a line of a joke
They won't make hay
There is no sun
The day grows old
With cliches told
How i wish to feel you sunshine again
How i need that deep breath of warmth again
How i need to get back to the things i love
I love you, but i love them more
Got snaps
Got tunes
Got smoke
Got Stab
Got love
Got sand
Got sun
Got flap
Lost my soul on a Saint Catherine
Gave my heart to a Crescent Moon
Stuck now, in a not know knot
I am happy or i am sad, no one knows
Will miss all the crepes and all of the beer
Will miss all the bread on a chocolate, my dear
There is an an old port as they say
But it is new and fresh and it will never decay
On Peel street, a travelling band played
"Taxman" and others from Harrison's lair
Gran Prix weekend with the world over
I will always remember you, even if you forget
I might have missed a snowflake or two
And i did miss a love affair, you can bet
But more than anything else
I will miss all you people that i have met
