On a cold and wintry night,
I come upon a golden tower,
Stand there and marvel at the sight,
The trappings and the show of power.
Police and barriers everywhere,
I am in shock, I want to weep,
And turn away from all the glare,
With miles to go before I sleep.
With miles to go before I sleep.
Whose tower this is, I think I know.
His house is white, as white as snow.