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It’s Cold
(Erika Margewitsch)

I would really like to be at home
watching television all alone
and talking to my cat who doesn't bother me,
I should go and make some tea,
it's cold .

I would like to be there on my own
painting yellow pictures of the lawn
and looking through the curtains down the street
where the lights are part of me,
it's cold.

I would light a candle and stroke the cat
He’d come close to me to bend his head
to my hands upon my knees,
He’d know exactly why I freeze,
it's cold.

Where's the guitar with the broken string?
I might try to play a little song and sing,
But somehow my voice sounds dull and wrong,
and the fingers feel so numb,
it's cold.

I feel a little guilty, I've never told you babe,
but anyway, it's much too late,
and when those stupid tears fall down
I feel the cold down to my bones,
it's cold, it's cold.