| Song | Cold February |
| Artist | The Incredible String Band |
| Album | Hard Rope & Silken Twine |
| 作词 : Williamson | |
| As I beside some winter's fire | |
| Sat writing words strange and steady | |
| Amongst my own internal choir | |
| Came voices to my mind unready | |
| Of those who died on either side | |
| While friends cry o're their bones unburied | |
| Go sighing through the north east winds | |
| These cold days of February | |
| Some clerk with papers and his pen | |
| Some banker with his poison pity | |
| Some captain careless of his men | |
| These fan the flames that maim the cities | |
| And bigots in the name of Christ | |
| By thorny paths obscure and muddy | |
| Can fear to roam through years of cold | |
| Bewailing how their hands are bloody | |
| Whether they were from here or there | |
| Their race and place I would not be heeding | |
| The men who caused such bitterness | |
| If hearts they have let their hearts be bleeding | |
| Who neither for age nor the young child | |
| Would turn the shot of the arms they carried | |
| Go bear the guilt a weary ways | |
| For the cold days of February |
| zuò cí : Williamson | |
| As I beside some winter' s fire | |
| Sat writing words strange and steady | |
| Amongst my own internal choir | |
| Came voices to my mind unready | |
| Of those who died on either side | |
| While friends cry o' re their bones unburied | |
| Go sighing through the north east winds | |
| These cold days of February | |
| Some clerk with papers and his pen | |
| Some banker with his poison pity | |
| Some captain careless of his men | |
| These fan the flames that maim the cities | |
| And bigots in the name of Christ | |
| By thorny paths obscure and muddy | |
| Can fear to roam through years of cold | |
| Bewailing how their hands are bloody | |
| Whether they were from here or there | |
| Their race and place I would not be heeding | |
| The men who caused such bitterness | |
| If hearts they have let their hearts be bleeding | |
| Who neither for age nor the young child | |
| Would turn the shot of the arms they carried | |
| Go bear the guilt a weary ways | |
| For the cold days of February |