Everything slows, coming to a halt
The world ices over around my feet
Nothing’s wrong and it’s no one’s fault
It’s simply that I’m cold blooded
Every winter I see the ice,
The mounds of snow, and the shorter days
And I just want to take a knife and slice
The months between November and march off the calendar.
In winter, I go on autopilot
I don’t want to hear it, I really don’t care
About anything. He called you a harlot?
That’s nice, you don’t hear that one anymore.
I don’t get worked up, I don’t get excited
Nothing stirs in my soul and drives me on
Nothing makes me enraged or delighted.
I just get cold, like the weather.
And then comes the spring and I start to move
I’m biting at the bit to be outside
There’s a lot that this could prove
But strangely reptilian, I say cold blooded.
And then the summer I come alive
The fire inside my blood begins to rage
As passions climax then they drive
Me to foolish acts and dramatic flair.
In summer I burn with inner heat
Absorbing from the sun and sand and water
That radiant warmth that’s oh so sweet
On the lips that press beneath the wave.
Then comes autumn, full of dread
Frantic preparation underway
Knowing I’ll soon be as good as dead
For at least 3 months out of the year
He offends my friend and I lay in
Battering away while I still have the power
Some would say that this is a sin
But the truth is, I’m cold blooded.
The world ices over around my feet
Nothing’s wrong and it’s no one’s fault
It’s simply that I’m cold blooded
Every winter I see the ice,
The mounds of snow, and the shorter days
And I just want to take a knife and slice
The months between November and march off the calendar.
In winter, I go on autopilot
I don’t want to hear it, I really don’t care
About anything. He called you a harlot?
That’s nice, you don’t hear that one anymore.
I don’t get worked up, I don’t get excited
Nothing stirs in my soul and drives me on
Nothing makes me enraged or delighted.
I just get cold, like the weather.
And then comes the spring and I start to move
I’m biting at the bit to be outside
There’s a lot that this could prove
But strangely reptilian, I say cold blooded.
And then the summer I come alive
The fire inside my blood begins to rage
As passions climax then they drive
Me to foolish acts and dramatic flair.
In summer I burn with inner heat
Absorbing from the sun and sand and water
That radiant warmth that’s oh so sweet
On the lips that press beneath the wave.
Then comes autumn, full of dread
Frantic preparation underway
Knowing I’ll soon be as good as dead
For at least 3 months out of the year
He offends my friend and I lay in
Battering away while I still have the power
Some would say that this is a sin
But the truth is, I’m cold blooded.
