It's so cold, my make-up's freezin' to my face While I remember something from long ago My train won't come, so I look down to check If my feet are still where they ought to be And then a smile enters my face And I'm back. 'Cause in my purse Between the pages of a book I keep the feather of a black crow I'm afraid to damage it 'Cause it's not the easiest thing To get hold of in the middle of winter I'm gonna give it to someone when I find him. I'm like a child, exited on Christmas Eve Only this time it's the other way around I can't wait to see his face When he opens his eyes To find out what's tickling his nose I bet he thought that I would forget. 'Cause he's a spiritual soul Just passin' through With a peaceful feather in his hair He's tryin' to figure out what to do His solitary honesty won't get him there. He's a little Indian, with his own team of gods Providing wisdom in his dreams at night His personality contains an entire tribe He takes his love and his hate And turns them into concepts Of music and sound. 'Cause he's a spiritual soul Just passin' through With a peaceful feather in his hair He's tryin' to figure out what to do His solitary honesty won't get him there.