Cold was the wind on my frozen face But I didn’t mind, cause I was long gone
Cold was the wind upon my brow Below it, well, you don’t wanna know at all Cold, was the wind
Christmas in Siberia with the little bitty case of delirium trim For some reason, picture Roger Clemens but [?] the city I came with Crossed my heart, hoped to die Stick a needle in my, butter around your bread
Cold was the wind upon my brow Below it, well, you don’t wanna know at all Cold, wind, blows
Cold wind blows on my naked brow Sun sits down on the sacred cow You better God-damn miss me when I’m gone, cause guys gonna damn me up the [?] Whoever it is, they’re gonna give me the business Whoever it is, gonna miss my girls On the plane I’m drinkin red wine, like everybody else I’m afraid to die Did I mention that I’m afraid of dying, think I heard my daughter crying So I pick her on up, spin her around, live it on up, of what I found
Cold was the wind upon my brow Below it, well, you don’t wanna know at all Cold, wind, blows