Snow looks like cold ashes blowin’ away

And we’ll be alright if we ever get through

Through the long stretch of the January blues

They cut back our hours just before holidays

Guess the markets gone sour and somebody must pay

To keep the food on the table and the roof up above

We gotta do what we can or Santa won’t come

When I hear the geese in the dark frozen sky

And I get the feeling everything’ll be alright

When I look in your eyes and I know we’ll get through