Текст песни
Every page a little window where the cold creeps in.
Writing down the loss, writing down the wind,
Cold world dies.
I wrote a story one day I was waiting in the bus,
It was late and I saw a man on the corner with a car of all places.
He sprayed me a dollar, I'm afraid from the war.
I gave him what I had, and I wished I had more Tuesday.
He got a letter from a cousin upstate,
Writing down the loss, writing down the wind,
Cold world dies.
I wrote a story one day I was waiting in the bus,
It was late and I saw a man on the corner with a car of all places.
He sprayed me a dollar, I'm afraid from the war.
I gave him what I had, and I wished I had more Tuesday.
He got a letter from a cousin upstate,