Singer:bill callahan
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
that turn your bones
and though you were
just a little squirrel
you understood every word
and in this way
they gave you clarity
a cold-blooded clarity
though how can i stand
and laugh with the man
who redefined your body?
how can i stand
those cold-blooded old times