A box full of treasure and a golden comb

I was surely give to you when the moon is [young? ]

And christmas is in june.



I will paint an evening of which there will be few

When the sky is water and the sun is blue

And all this is just for you.



A handkerchief of silver to brush away your tear

A sword of finest leather to match your paper spear

For when the day draws near.



When I will write these words in languages unknown

I'll be the one to tell you your heart is made of stone

And christmas will never be in june.