When will you sing to me?

He cried and bleed himself,
screamed and beat to,
But you cannot see what he is to do,

He leaves with only himself,
And sheds a little love,
But as he walks alone at night,
He know's theres somone above,

He's is walking toward his love,
And she will treat him well,
But he needs to get there just in time,
Or he will the regret the regrets that were mine

Walking and walking,
As the poor boy goes,
Against the wind and snows,
but he doesn't reach her intime,
Spirit falls backward from sublime

He is the winter,
She is the spring,
But meeting once a year,
When they fade into one another,
And there is a voice you can hear,
And they say

I am the rain,
I am the snow,
Kissing you every rain drop,
And every flake that comes to the grownd,
Im touching her hair as it flows,

And they cry together,
While making love at last,
But then another season goes,
But how long will he love her,
Nobody knows,
Will he find somone else?
The Answer is next spring,
How pretty will she be
when the devil starts to sing