When chimney smoke hangs still and low
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Across the stubbled fields of snow
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And angry skies reach down and seize
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The sorry blackened bones of trees
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In the dead of winter when the silent snowbirds come
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You're my sweet maple sugar, honey, hot buttered rum
|
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When dreary Christmas decorations
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Line the streets and filling stations
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And dime store Santas can't disguise
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Their empty hands and empty eyes
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In the dead of winter when the tinsel angels come
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You're my sweet maple sugar, honey, hot buttered rum
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When gloves and boots and woolen parkas
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Bring cold comfort to the heart
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And bitter memories freeze the tongue
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And songs of love are left unsung
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In the dead of winter when the cold feelings come
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You're my sweet maple sugar, honey, hot buttered rum
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Hot Buttered Rum
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| Mary Chapin Carpenter |
