Bruce Springsteen

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From their northeast source the sour wind roars
Bear gifts fresh from the valley waters
Hallow echoes strip Pennsylvania mountain walls
With their corsets and their old Betsy ruffles
And their slips with pearly white
They stand bulging up against the screen door
And bid you 'Good night.'

Summer's sweet and she brings me water
But give me Winter, that old icy whore
While Summer lies meek and follows orders
Winter cries 'Me!' and pulls you through the door

The limp milk tramp cries metal-flake tears
They drip like honey down the (soot?) of Momma's leg
He lay watchin' a moth eat a hole in his cloth
He'll ask, but he don't beg
Said I'd like to the mademoiselle
Who holds the keys to all these doors around her waist
And rings the bells

Summer's sweet and she brings me water
But give me Winter, that old icy whore
Summer lies meek and follows orders
Winter cries 'Me!' and pulls you through the door

With scufflin' sound, the knot-voiced matron makes her rounds
Knockin' on each and every door
With a look like white heat, she sways, salty, sweet
And leads me 'cross her Persian floor
She squeezed my hand and before her I stood
I was scared. It was dark, but it was good

Summer's sweet and she brings me water
But give me Winter, that old icy whore
While Summer lies meek and follows orders
Winter cries 'Me!' and pulls me through her door

fuente: musica.com disquito - musica.com

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