When the fog rolls in and cold comes creeping through my window
And the winter wind cuts the leaves from the trees wherever he goes
I'll make my coffee when the sun
Comes up, wash my dishes when I'm done
When the fog rolls in
When the fog rolls in and covers all the cows in the meadow
And the winter wind lays the tall grass down wherever he goes
I'll wrap my fingers 'round this old guitar, music makes me warm
And go about my day
These old walls, filled with dusty pictures
Pictures faded by the sun
These old floors, they're all scuffed and worn
Worn by constant footsteps leading to my door
When the fog rolls in and steals all the colors from the valley
And the winter wind moves the geese along wherever they go
I'll make my dinner when the sun goes down
Put another log on the fire
Then lay me down to sleep
Then lay me down to sleep
