The patient one sits in his icy cave
While the tundra outside grows white
He is wrapped in his fur with his firewood low
And concern on his face grows tight
Can he brave where the snow cascades o’er the land
To make up for the meals he stupidly missed
But what if he goes and he can’t get back
And he winds up frozen in the piling drifts
Or does he sit tight with his meager warmth
And wait to see how his situation might improve
Perhaps a mammoth will stray or the snow will stop
Should he stay and starve or should he move
