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