Oh the bitter winds are coming
in
And I'm already missing the summer
Stockholm's cold but I've
been told
I was born to endure this kind of weather
When it's you I find like a
ghost in my mind
I am defeated and I gladly wear the crown
I'll be your Emmylou and
I'll be your June
If you'll be my Gram and my Johnny too
No, I'm not asking much of you
Just sing
little darling, sing with me
