The Snowstorm Is Crying Like A Romany Violin

The snowstorm is crying like a Romany violin. Sweet is the girl. She is wicked when smiling. Blue are her eyes, do the give me a scare? I need quite a lot, and I don't really care. We're so much alike and so much contrasted, - You're young. I am old. And my life has all rusted. The young ones are happy while I am all wizened Recalling the past, in this terrible blizzard. I'mnot mollycoddled. The storm is my violin. My heart is snow-clad when I see you smiling.