It was winter of '85
It was Christmas outside
At one a.m. my phone's awake
All fucked up you called me up for a ride
You hid your face in a pocket book
You had your shoes in your hand
The road was slick and we never spoke
I held the wheel when I should have held your hand
You were frail like a skeleton
All you needed from me
was a greater pain to soak you up
I look back and I don't feel one thing,
don't feel a thing
How come I can't cross that water in my head?
How come I get the feeling though part of me is dead?
It was winter of '85
It was Christmas outside
At one a.m. my phone's awake
All fucked up you called me up for a ride

INVIA LE CORREZIONI