Good Old Snow

It falls at night and then it whitens the ground,
and when it falls it doesn’t make any sound;
it is the snow,
good old fashioned snow.
An aerial show,
it pulls the caw from the crow,
it is the snow.

Its frozen citizens are crystal unique,
arrived from atmosphere with surface to seek;
it is the snow,
good old fashioned snow.
It blankets below,
good people all seem to know,
it is the snow.

And if you pack it sometimes men will appear,
a friendly Frosty rounded front to the rear;
it is the snow,
good old fashioned snow.
We shovel it so,
yet often angels will show,
it is the snow.