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How I remember sleepless nights
when we would read by candlelight,
and on the windowpane outside
a new world made of snow;

a million feathers falling down,
a million stars that touch the ground,
so many secrets to be found
amid the falling snow.

Maybe I am falling down.
Tell me should I touch the ground?
Maybe I won't make a sound
in the darkness all around.

The silence of a winter's night
brings memories I hold inside;
remembering a blue moonlight
upon the fallen snow.

Maybe I am falling down.
Tell me should I touch the ground?
Maybe I won't make a sound
in the darkness all around.

I close my window to the night.
I leave the sky her tears of white.
And all is lit by candlelight
amid the falling snow.

And all is lit by candlelight
amid the falling snow.

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