Cold seeps into the house on Turnberry Street
and the windows are covered with heavy frost.
She keeps the heat turned way down on low,
knows the warmth would be such a high cost.
It's a bitter winter when no one seems to care
that the old lady sits with her worn coat on.
She will shiver through another long night
waiting for the coming of a bit warmer dawn.
Things got really hard since the old man died,
the pension stopped and she had meager fare,
She prayed to someday hear an angel's song
that would take her very far away from there.
One of the neighbors stopped by next day
to see if the old lady was still doing all right.
It's a bitter winter and she had no one to care
or help her through another long cold night.
It's a bitter winter as the cold winds wail
across the cemetery in that little town.
She sleeps in peace beside the old man,
they both have laid their burdens down.
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