December is here.
Another year has passed
without you in my life;
the frost in which I took refuge
is now just frost
since I lost you
instead of jingling bells,
and comforting songs
and your birthmonth;
it's just another month.
Another page on the calendar.
I wonder what it is to you;
another year void of me,
or jingling bells,
comforting songs
and your birthmonth?

To me, the cold is just a little more bitter
my bed, just a little emptier
the darkness, just a little darker
and the eggnog, a little more sour...
but maybe you,
you don't notice the differences.