Текст: Decemberists. The King Is Dead. January Hymn.

On a winter's Sunday I go
To clear away the snow and green the ground below
April, all an ocean away, is this the better way to spend the day?
Keeping the winter at bay

What were the words I meant to say before you left?
When I could see your breath lead where you were going to
Maybe I should just let it be and maybe it will all come back to me
Sing, oh, January, oh

How I lived a childhood in snow
And all my teens in tow, stuffed in strata of clothes
Pale the winter days after dark
Wandering the gray memorial park, a fleeting beating of hearts

What were the words I meant to say before you left?
When I could see her breath lead where she was going to
Maybe I should just let it be and maybe it will all come back to me
Sing, oh, Janu, oh January, oh