0:00-0:39
It's 2 a.m. It's cold and dark, with streets wet either from a rainstorm that's moved ahead, or the remnants of snow run-off. It's the sort of cold you can keep out with a coat and scarf, a layer or two of shirts with thermals and gloves, the varying accessories of warmth.
Plenty of people wouldn't appreciate being in this sort of spot. I'm sure most would rather be hot than cold. There's something beautiful about this, though.
0:39
Some wind finds a seam in your coat. The first chill of your open-air jaunt.
0:40-1:23
Having felt the chill, it's probably about time to hustle on home. Pick up the pace.
1:24-2:05
Thirty words. The entirety of the song's lyrics. Brevity. "I will surprise you sometime / I'll come around / when you're down" is the last line, felt as if spoken by someone watching over you as you walk down these wet streets, offering encouragement you can't hear, consolation you can't feel in the middle of the wind's bite.
2:06-end
And on toward the destination. Kinds words unheard, comfort unfelt, what's left to do but keep moving? The bus station's seen its last caravan leave for the night, and there're miles to go before you sleep.
Second star to the right and straight on 'til morning. Stay young, Peter Pan. The old don't like the cold.
