I'm driving, I see nothing ahead, with this snowstorm, I'm trapped, I have to resign myself to stopping, before killing myself, finding a hotel, instead of going to heaven, I went to a room, in this month of December, I call my love to tell her that everything is fine, and that I will see her tomorrow, she told me that I had to worry her, ah! it's so good to be loved, that someone cares about me, I must say I like it.
