Out my door, its grey and miserable

your steps skid down wet footpaths

the clouds havent given the sun a chance in days

the snow melted away the last hope of winter happiness

we are back to trampling on urban mud

hot emails from sunny places from steve and gracia and louise

turn me on, explosive heat

i hope my words melt in their mouths

do you have summer blues sinking in your hearts?

at least they can see the sun from inside their rooms

i have the winter blues when i gaze through my shades

bulletins shoot online about a missing Portugese man

who works as an investigator at a techology company here in Berlin

last seen at 4am leaving a club last week

his footprints still fresh on the dance floor

employer and friends are searching for his remains or his whereabouts

a happy photo of him attached to me

has anybody seen him?

maybe he escaped back to his sunny roots, Portugal

away he went with his winter blues

my sunny roots are  far away

and even though i drink Aussie wine and imagine my escape

i still dont feel the ocean’s breeze or its sand blowing in the tropical wind

on TV i see surfers and swimmers loose their flesh to sharks

i see hurricanes blow rooftops away

i see a plane floating on Hudson river

after all these news?

how can i escape the Winter Blues?

when leaving home has become impossible?

i will tell you how. i will imagine