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Description
While the whistler rattles, the tone bestowed, most remain contained and remote.

While the wizard spins, their magic of promises, we await them, to begin.

While the excuses created, hiding from the truth, creating the lie for protection, we never know when to begin.

So when the snow dries, with the continuation of cold. The grey morning skies, darken with a rancid scent. Then we will know, we are belated, with the truth!

Description
While the whistler rattles, the tone bestowed, most remain contained and remote.

While the wizard spins, their magic of promises, we await them, to begin.

While the excuses created, hiding from the truth, creating the lie for protection, we never know when to begin.

So when the snow dries, with the continuation of cold. The grey morning skies, darken with a rancid scent. Then we will know, we are belated, with the truth!