Jeff Rosenstock

Snow Charges

Jeff Rosenstock


There's a patch shimmering under the sky
On the south corner of Bushwick, on the residential side
And I'm afraid I'll slip.

Most days when it's cloudy and all nights I stay inside
But it's 2:30 on New Years' Day and outside it's looking bright
And I could use some chips and a bottle of soda
For my quest to rescue Zelda.

Trying to be brave, I touched the puddle to my tongue
And within a millisecond the bottom of my face went numb
And no one on the street knew anything was wrong.

So I tried to wave my arms to find that they were frozen too
And I tried to run away, my legs felt like they were stuck in clue
And I started to hear a storm.

Through my ears poured freezing rain
And it froze my freezing brain.

A handful of neighbors gathered underneath the awning
of the laundromat 200 feet from the front door of my building
And it smacked my like a pinball
And it crushed me like a wrecking ball
I was swallowed by a cold duvet
And the kids are gonna have a snow day.

I couldn't bear to find out how the story was gonna end
So I closed my eyes and went to sleep and no one found me dead
'Cause everybody stayed inside 'til March.

And a patch of flowers grew out of the concrete where I lied
Some boy picked a dandelion to give to a girl he liked
And she gave him a kiss that warmed his lonely heart.

Now they hold each other tight
And stay in on winter nights.