The cold won't creep to touch her here
Safe and warm in her little room.
He keeps the wood fire burning near.
"For you," he whispers, "my dear."
What book will she choose for him to read?
He knows. The blue one on the shelf.
The story of a giant's one good deed
That to a poor child's fortune leads.
That to a poor child's fortune leads.
She'll jump when they fall at the giant's feet.
And cower under covers when he roars.
Then laugh when they trick him to his seat.
And she'll cry with the giant in defeat.
Her smile, in sleep, brings forth his tears
As for an hour her pain subsides.
Another kiss, to wrest the fear,
"For you," he whispers again, "my dear."
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