Before the sun does rise,

On a cool autumn morning,

On the ground fog will lie,

Like a great white bear.


His cool fingers touch me,

Wiping away my tears,

As calm as he I would be,

When held in his arms.


But as the light increases,

And fog starts to melt away,

His hold on me he releases,

As if he never cared.


But I know that somewhere,

My bear, my friend, he waits,

To come to the love we share,

In the chill of the night.


The bright ball of fire,

We have named the sun,

Is waiting way up higher,

Then the clouds of my bear.


Sol is my deadly foe,

The time when he is here,

I prefer to stay down low,

And wait like the bear...