Through December

Birds were falling from the sky
All leaves had turned to brown
The heartless cold froze everything
And took my poor Red down
Poor old Red she’s dead and gone
Her eyes I do remember
At least I have this old guitar
To get me through December, through December
Through December
Her eyes were dark as winter’s night
Both somehow young and old
I loved her most the day she died
Her hair was colored gold
Old man winter at my door
The sky heavy with snow
All’s cold but my heart poor Red
It’s hard to let you go