Cold Was The Wind - Kurt Vile

Cold was the wind on my frozen face

But I didn’t mind, cause I was long gone

Cold was the wind upon my brow

Below that, well, you don’t wanna know at all

Cold, was the wind (Yeah)

Christmas in Siberia with the little bitty case of the delirium tremens

For some reason, picture Roger Clemens

But Mike Schmidt’s more of the city I came with

Crossed my heart, hoped to die

Stick a needle in my, butter around your bread

Cold was the wind on my naked brow

Below it, well, you don’t wanna know at all

Cold, wind, blows

Cold wind blows on my naked brow

Sun sits down on the sacred cow

You better Goddamn miss me when I’m gone

'Cause God’s gonna damn me up and down now

Wherever it is, they’re gonna give me the business

Whoever it is, gonna miss my girls

On the plane I’m drinkin red wine, 'cause like everybody else I’m afraid to die

Did I mention that I’m afraid of dying, think I heard my daughter crying

So I pick her on up, spin her around, live it on up, of what I found

Cold wind blow on my brow

Below it, well, you don’t wanna know at all

Cold, wind, blows