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Pagan Winter, Samm Willard

Sophia and Philosophia

Isn’t this a lovely place to pick apart your lover’s face
Some say the river bank’s a sacred place
Others think that’s such a silly thing to say
But I would never try to prove them wrong on such a blissful day
The colors of the leaves will soon have changed
The yellows and the greens will fade to gray
But I will lose a quiet hour to the darkest day
A pagan winter’s on its way
I will see the death of God before it’s Christmas day
A pagan winter’s on its way
Well isn’t this some lovely clay …