Lyrics
The first frost came while the night train slept, Feathers of white on the window glass. I breathe a small cloud and I watch it drift Over the fields where the dark hours pass. A stranger's coat is a pillow tonight, The lamps are low and the wheels are slow. Somewhere ahead is a borrowed room With a kettle, a bed and a lamp aglow. The frost wrote on the carriage glass Words I almost knew, A quiet hand across the cold, A morning coming through. Let the rails go humming, let the white hours pass, The frost wrote on the carriage glass. I trace a line where the silver grows, A little door in the winter sheet. Beyond it a village turns its lights down low And the sleeping platform waits for my feet. The frost wrote on the carriage glass Words I almost knew, A quiet hand across the cold, A morning coming through. Let the rails go humming, let the white hours pass, The frost wrote on the carriage glass. Hush now, hush now, the engine sighs, The whole wide world is lace and breath. I'll hold this hour like a candle flame And carry it gently to the morning's edge. The frost wrote on the carriage glass Words I almost knew, A quiet hand across the cold, A morning coming through. Let the rails go humming, let the white hours pass, The frost wrote on the carriage glass. The frost wrote on the carriage glass, And the morning came through.