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lyrics

Winter’s home, and summer must have died or forgot to come, a dinner date in France that went far too long, and empty bottles of red (wine) scattered in the sun, and no one left to fend off the Cold.... Cold and you never go home.... And all I want is to be free from your hold... Cold... Home... Home.... That weather man’s a liar, bastard motherfucker he sits ship in his Hollywood home making predictions and in a better world, this never would have happened with my view the coast.... Bury my toes in the sand and oil, I will bury my toes in the sand and oil, I will bury my toes in the sand and oil with my dreams of growing old on the gulf.... Cold.... Cold and you never go home.... And all I want is to be free from your hold... Cold... Home... Home....

credits

from Turns All Your Bad Feelings Into Good ones, track released April 1, 2011

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Fools Rush Portland, Oregon

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