Cold
Lyric
Stein was a Walmart man,
Would load up all his weeklies in his Chevvy van.
Then spend his weekend on the land,
With Martha and the dogs always close to hand.
And it’s so cold, so cold, with Minnesota breathing down your winter coat,
December blanket from the skies,
Naked by the fire,
April bump, September cries.
We got a baby, baby.
Nothing in the world can better that.
One day, one splintered door,
Missing television, pictures on the floor,
Rifled cupboards, opened drawers,
No-one brought to justice, nothing from the law.
It’s so cold, so cold, to take the peace and quiet from inside a home.
The constitution spoke to Stein,
Gonna get a piece, keep it safe,
Everything will turn out fine.
Grapefruit, cheesecake, chocolate and a 45 on the bill.
Supermarket checkout, always someone trying to make a kill.
Martha had her doubts.
Stein wouldn’t hear her out.
Martha my dear,
What’s there to fear?
Young child still full of trust,
Forgetful father in a fatal rush.
Trigger movement, powdered slug,
Rush of metal, Martha pooling blood.
She said:
I’m so cold, I’m so cold.
I’ll never get to hold you when I’m grey and old.
The light extinguished from her eyes,
The last she ever heard was young and frightened, deafened cries.
Story
This is the first and only time I’ve ever written a story for a song. After a while I realised I’d subconsciously added a lot of lyrical elements from the White Album. Although, like most people I love the Beatles, the White Album leaves me, ahem, cold most of the time. So I don’t know how Martha, guns and a story in a Rocky Racoon came to be. Not quite sure where the song idea came from lyric-wise, but I do like how different it is for me.
I’d had the chords to this since the 90s and was always worried they were a little too similar to one of my English Summer songs, but with this arrangement you’d never know. Once I had one of the guitar parts in place it became its own song.
The intro is Dave being Godley and Creme to my Gouldman and Stewart and is another example of his brilliance.