Non-Fiction

I’ve got the snow on my side — i’ve got no doubts about that
And though this city grows wider, i always know where i’m at
I got your letter this morning
I know you mean what you say
And though the stations are closed down, i’ve got to get away
I’m somewhere off the compass
I’m somewhere lower than hell
And when you say you’re beyond this, i say, «i've been there as well»