Cold Song

Purcell-Sting

What power art thou, who from below

Hast made me rise unwillingly and slow

From bed of everlasting snow?

See'st thou not how stiff and wondrous old

Far unfit to bear the bitter cold,

I can scarcely move or draw my breath?

Let me, let me freeze again to death.

Fragile

On and on the rain will fall

Like tears from a star, like tears  from a star

On and on the rain will say

How fragile we are, how fragile we are

Fragile