Outside the snowstorm spins, and hides The world beneath a pall. Snowed under are the paper-girl, The papers and the stall. Quite often our experience Has led us to believe That snow falls out of reticence, In order to deceive. Concealing unrepentantly And trimming you in white, How often he has brought you home Into the town at night! While snowflakes blind and blanket out The distance more and more, A tipsy shadow gropes his way And staggers to the door. And then he enters hastily… Again, for all I know, Someone has something sinful to Conceal in all this snow!SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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