It was winter of '85   It was Christmas outside   At one a.m. my phone's awake   All fucked up you called me up for a ride      You hid your face in a pocket book   You had your shoes in your hand   The road was slick and we never spoke   I held the wheel when I should have held your hand      You were frail like a skeleton   All you needed from me   was a greater pain to soak you up   I look back and I don't feel one thing,   don't feel a thing      How come I can't cross that water in my head?   How come I get the feeling though part of me is dead?      It was winter of '85   It was Christmas outside   At one a.m. my phone's awake   All fucked up you called me up for a ride