(Music by Henry Purcell, Lyrics by Elkanah Settle, Arranged by Sting)
Now Winter comes slowly, Pale, Meager, and Old,
First trembling with Age, and then quiv’ring with Cold;
Benum’d with hard Frosts, and with Snow cover’d o’er,
Prays the Sun to Restore him, and Sings as before.
I cannot take this anymo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-ore Saying everything I've said befo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-ore All these words they make…
(Hey, you're really crazy... You know that?) I thought that I was calling up my…
I've been sucking morning Waiting for the beat I've been running circles Searching for the…