In this cold we will need fire
Feel its warmth
And break the spell of the season
Spark of life
Of wood and coal
Lightens hearts
That can't be frozen
Here in Poland
And the smoke from the coal
Smells so sweet
But acid
Driving through great forests

On a narrow road
Trees all look like children
Next to towns so old

In this room we'll make a fire
Iron stove
Numbness to feeling
Mind is reeling
Spark of life
In twinkling eyes
Lights the hearts
That remain open
Here in Poland
And the smoke stings my eyes
Purified
Memories