Snow falling in the summer, with five Santa Clauses, having broken an appointment.
At 2 am, by a thin piece of a lemon, to be moved by it's kindness.
Under the weather I'm feeling, clang with a hammer, on Sunday.
A bandage I've boiled, so I'm bored, the night has come.
To rest her cheeks in her hand, no choices there are, the dream has over.