I see the first snow falling on the ground People bolting their doors Fearing the winters frown I feel the cold and wet air creeping up my bones With every year going by, I am getting too old at once Irene I fear this might be the last winter I am here We chose this piece of land cause it was built by my father's hand We could have moved to the city, head for a promised land We could have made a lot of money, if the soil hadn't turned red Everything we put into the ground, shortly was dead I would have had children but the lord didn't think so I am glad I had you, all through getting old If my time is now to come, I am ready my things are done Just give me one last beam of the bright and warming sun Irene this might be the last winter for me I fear