Verse 1

You leave your gloves beside the door

The winter follows to the floor

I trace the map your fingers made

Across the frost upon the pane

Pre-Chorus

The old hills keep what we have said

A silver thread beneath the snow

Chorus

Carry me over the northern water

Where the pines bend low and the cold winds call

I will stand when the dark comes closer

I will find my way through it all

Verse 2

Your red scarf caught against the gate

The kettle cools; the hour grows late

I hear the names the valleys keep