Ugglaimossen

 

I was following the pack
all swallowed in their coats
with scarves of red tied round their throats
to keep their little heads
from fallin in the snow
And I turned around and there you go
And, Michael, you would fall
and turn the white snow red as strawberries
in the summertime

I came to ask you out
Been wanting to for days
Will you go with me tonight?
I will pick you up on my blue motorbike

En vanlig kväll
skratt
tjafs
försoning