Cold Wind - John Butler Trio

Cold wind it blows

Blowing through like Sunday morning

Chills my bones, take me home, take me home

Home is where the heart is

But my heart’s been truly stolen

Cold wind it blows, wind it blows

Fire in my gut

Reminding me that yes I’m in a

Great big rut, great big hole, great big hole

No one knows, can tell me

Where those chains begin

Fire in my gut, in my gut, in my gut

There are places you will never go

And there are things that you will never know

It all depends on which side of the road

Hole in my soul

Makes me feel like I am floating

Far from my place, I got no land, I got no face

Tell me Mr

What’s a man supposed to believe in?

Hole in my soul, in my soul, in my soul

Gun in my hand

You’re telling me that I’m meant to obey

Laws of your land, of your land, of your land

But you don’t follow rules

Of the silly games you play

So gun in my hand, in my hand, in my hand