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From the album Musicalmanac - 'A Nairnshire Year of Nature in Song' Written, performed and produced by Stephen Picton Lead vocals by Josie Black February’s frozen fingers grip my heart in an icy vice, With glinting eye and frosty smile she offers me this nice advice: Wrap up while the wind laments the winter’s passing, Ooh … Bury my heart in the snow on the mountain Wash all this pain to the sea Then let it flow through each ocean in fountains Until there’s none left in me. Cleanse me of love in the loch’s icy waters With tears that stream all down the ben, Drown every dove and their mocking sweet torture, Break every songwriter’s pen. Take all my grief, plant it deep in the forest So nothing grows any more, Then take each card maker, poet and florist And murder them all to be sure. Oh let this snow be the purification To smother a landscape of woe, Oh let this barren earth be my salvation So nothing here ever can grow … Let it snow! And let the wind blow! Turn my hide white like the hare on the mountain All camouflaged in the snow Let eagles strip these bones bare, once were bounding, In an eerie so high men can’t go. Let the frost shatter and turn them to powder Scatter them all to the wind, Let the gale’s howling grow louder and louder Til grief is drowned out in the din. Oh let this snow be the purification To smother a landscape of woe, Oh let this dead earth be my heart’s salvation So nothing there ever can grow … Let it snow! And let the wind blow! Let it snow! And let the wind blow! February yawns, lets my heart go and cracks its frozen fingers, Bored of daubing landscapes white with snow she turns her back but lingers, Misty March looks cold and wet yet hides its purpose … Ah …