[Verse]
Sleep in the cold, I have lost my clothes
Icicles grow under my nails
The thought of a shot of vodka, was nice
I was hoping you'd hold my steps
It was nice for a while 'til we're drunk in the streets
Slushy hail creeping into our feet
I will bring you back home, we'll make out on the couch
And have trouble, with our soggy clothes

[Outro]
It's nice to believe that the streets won't be clean
And you'll have to stay here for the night