8 Below Zero - Zero, Robert Hunter, Greg Anton

Fifth and MacDougal, crossing the street

Last rose of summer I happen (ed) to meet

She greeted my face with the back of her hand

I checked it for blood, made no reprimand

It’s been a long time, I said casually

She said June 21st, 1983

In a voice with inflections heard in my dreams

A long time ago, not so long as it seems…

«I'll buy you some coffee,» I said «Come inside

Tell me who’s living, tell me who’s died

Whatever happened-- what was his name?»

Like all of the rest, he went back where he came

Eight below zero, too cold to snow

Eight below zero, nowhere to go

Eight below zero, face to the wind

It must have been written I’d see you again

I asked how it happened she still remained

She laughed without humor, «I'd ask you the same

You climbed up the ladder, stepped off the top

You never were someone who knew when to stop.»

«I'll stop when I’m buried,» I said in reply

And ordered two pieces of blueberry pie

She picked out the berries, neglected the crust

«Like you,» she said, «I never knew who to trust»

We never knew when, we never knew how

Never got cheated, and look at us now

You’ve got protection, your gamble paid off

But the fact you came back shows it wasn’t enough

It’s eight below zero, too cold to snow

Catching her drift, I made motions to go

But she stuck out her foot.

My balance collapsed

Fell to my knees with my head in her lap

I made up my mind to leave it right there

Rightly or wrongly, I didn’t much care

Familiar perfume from the lap of her dress

Kingdoms have fallen defending much less