Extreme north of the compass,
December skies looked grey and joyless,
The world awaits, in barren splendour, for someone to stir the embers.

We are sinking into numbness, welcoming it like an old friend,
And my confidence is crumbling like a house of cards again.

Is that the darkness you inhabit'
Well, it's a blanket 'round your shoulders,
All this vexing of the spirit,
Always wake up feeling colder, so colder.

Like a friendship never nurtured, like a lover long forsaken,
Like a liar who can no longer tell when he's telling the truth or faking, oh,
Or faking, oh,
Or faking, oh,
Faking.