Текст Bill Callahan – Cold–Blooded Old Times

Cold-blooded old times
Cold-blooded old times
Cold-blooded old times

The type of memories

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