Cold

March was cold, the wind blew strong
You held me tight, you held me long.
Years blew by, as did the wind.
We took the world, as if we'd sinned.
You took the fun of the trouble out,
and I had to hear from a scout.

March was still cold, and the wind blew strong.
A beer held me tight, it held me long.
I grasped it with both hands, with all my might.
I looked down the tunnel, and I'm still missing the light.
The scout had shared his news of horror,
Immature thoughts, in my mind said "whore"

The only way I thought of you,
the only description too.
Summers stayed cold.
I've grown old.
Heart still gone;
You're still gone.