Cold-blooded old times

The type of memories

that turns your bones to glass

Turns your bones to glass





Mother came rushing in

she said we didn't see a thing

We said we didn't see a thing

And father left at eight

Nearly splintering the gate





Cold-blooded old times

The type of memory

That turns your bones to glass

Turns your bones to glass





And though you where

Just a little swirl

You understood every word

And in this way they gave you clarity

A cold-blooded clarity





Cold-blooded old times





Now how can I stand

and laugh with the man

Who redefined your body





Those cold-blooded old times...