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Holsapple |
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It won't snow at fifteen below |
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But what do you know that looks like |
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Winter moving faster this year, fall disappeared |
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Leaving me to fend off winter myself |
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I know where I'd rather be but no one asked me. |
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There must be a better place |
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There must be a better way |
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I can't stand to hear you say |
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These are the good old days. |
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Cards and letters postmarked from you |
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And your ocean view |
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Summer where you are |
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And I'm not and patently so, snowshoes are slow |
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Plus I've got no great desire to |
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Catch a jet and get there quite yet |
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With my shoes soaking wet. |
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There must be a better place |
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There must be a better way |
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I can't stand to hear you say |
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These are the good old days. |
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Take me with you, I'm beggin', please |
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Take me with you before I freeze. |
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I know where it's warmest to be |
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Undoubtedly |
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In your arms it beats hell out of |
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Fapping my own when I'm chilled to the bone. |
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There must be a better place |
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There must be a better way |
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God, I hate to hear you say |
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These are the good old days. |
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Oh, there must be a better place |
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There must be a better way |
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There must be a better .. |
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There must be a better .. |
