Cold, cold 1950 

a year from now I'll be away 

a year from now you'll hear from me 

my chin on the water in the darkest time 

I'll cut through country, country bound 

with foot in mouth before the town 

that looks of shadow and of cloud 

and looking back be damned 

just underneath the line of visible (and well) 

before I'm found and cast to hell 

when minutes turn to months and kill 

my hopes of coming home 

I'll have a life somewhere, I know 

I'll have a life somewhere, I know