Bill Callahan
Cold Blooded Old Times
Cold-blooded old times
Cold-blooded old times
Cold-blooded old times
The type of memories
That turn your bones to glass
Turn your bones to glass
Mother came rushing in
She said we didn't see a thing
We said we didn't see a thing
And father left at eight
Nearly splintering the gate
Cold-blooded old times
Cold-blooded old times
Cold-blooded old times
Cold-blooded old times
The type of memories
That turn your bones
Turn your bones to glass
And though you were
Just a little squirrel
You understood every word
And in this way
They gave you clarity
A cold-blooded clarity
Cold-blooded old times
Cold-blooded old times
Cold-blooded old times
Though how can I stand
And laugh with the man
Who redefined your body?
How can I stand
And laugh with the man
Who redefined your body?
Those cold-blooded old times
Cold-blooded old times
Cold-blooded old times