Texty: Brooke Fraser. Ice On Her Lashes.

The lone woman stands in the turning December
She's got ice on her lashes, white at her winter coat
The trees stand like soldiers around her
Dutiful wooden curse
And the heart she feared frozen
Still beats and still marches on

Oh, Annie
I will think of you each time I see the sun
Didn't want a day without you
But somehow I've lived through another one

A gentlemen waits on a platform in a haze of gray and grief
Now he's sold up his assets, starting over at 70
The steam blasts like trumpets around him
Salutes on the colonnade
As he thinks to himself:
"We're all waiting for our train to come"

Oh, Annie
I will think of you each time I see the sun
Didn't want a year without you
But somehow I've lived through another one

Did you find it hard to breathe at first?
Were you wounded and in disbelief at how much it hurt?
Now the ache's still burning, but the world's still turning
Isn't it?

Oh, Annie
I still think of you each time I see the sun
Didn't want a life without you
But here I am living one