The bar band is playing summertime where the lights are low
I’m skipping ’round now, bar to bar, wondering where to go
I’m on my way to ‘Frisco Bay from a port in New Orleans
I’m walking ’round to satisfy on account of Ms. Louise

Though I knew she could devour all of my heart in an hour
Even in dreams I’d have
Though I always knew I would lose her and turn into a substance abuser
Doris Day, you got such a cold-blooded way

I recall the posted wall and the theatre shows
And the gloomy dressing room and the bullet holes
“Can I really trust you, dear?” she asked from her window sill
Where she clipped her finger tips and rolled a dollar bill

Then she hid a gun in the oven when the two detectives were coming
Offered them coffee and cake
Then they returned the money she asked for that was found on the dashboard
Oh Doris, dear, it’s been such a cold-blooded year

I could lay and watch the swaying curtains in the night
I could see their witness seated in the station light
And the rows of bullet holes in a shirt of red and white
I could hear my Doris dear in the sad and silent night

Though I know I’m only human and my death is forever looming
On an unassuming night
So this breath I’ll be repeating while my heart is violently beating
Doris Day, you got such a cold-blooded way
The bar band is packing in and all the dancing’s done
Weatherman gave a bad report – rainy days to come
If your fare should take you where the city squares are dark
Please relay to Doris Day that I’ve died in Central Park

Where there’s smoke or accordians playing in a parlor room, she’ll be swaying
Gliding across the wooden floor
And as the sad awnings are dripping, my stereo will be skipping
Singing, “Doris Day, you got such a cold-blooded way.”

Such a terrible dove
That’s my cold-blooded love