I press your hand in mine however cautiously, I keep a smile right to myselfnAnd I lapse into the grasp of an overriding obsessionnAnd I get sick as I watch my interests fall into suspensionnn[Chorus:]nThis WinternSo cold, Creeping down your armnStealth soldiers, Creeping around your palmnIt's hard, hard to understandnLittle victories won creeping around your handnnThe sickness has taken hold through violent, blurted syllablesnEscape my mouth under my breathnThe voice of pricking dread is whispering insistent in my earnMy paranoia galvanized by your gaze, so austerenn[Chorus]nnI pinned your crest to my chest, hoping it might start to look rightnThere was hushed talk of young boy's corpse lying face down in some rivernHis hands used to move like minenI can't stand myself this morning, i am practically that boynNo strength to endure, Ghostly insecure, Pallid through lack of choicenn[Chorus]