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• Artiste: Julien Aklei
• Titre: Father I'm Cold
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All alone with no pocketbook waiting for you. Press my head on the the looking glass waiting for you. And my pockets are big but my fingers are small And I cry like a butterfly smashed on the wall as I stand Pressed on the looking glass dreaming of you. We met in the army when I was sixteen. I was a typist, you were a marine. Your rank it grew like a snowball each day; I got the boot cause they thought i was gay- but I was straight as an arrow for you. I used to dream of us making sweet love Till my body would start to explode. Oh Father! Father Father Father, I'm cold. The sky is stretched out like a sheet in the sky. Far below on the earth a king scuffles by. And he's dressed up in rags like a woman today; He hops through the woods like a bearcub at play, When who should he meet in the forest but you, He meets you. "Take off your clothes, please." you say with your gun. Off comes his clothes and he stands in the sun. Blood fills your face and it twitches your hands When you find that your woman is really a man. You say, "Why, why did you lie, Mr. Leopold?" He said, "Look at your hands, please, They're shaking like pansies; your heart Can't do anything bold." Oh Father! Father Father Father, I'm cold. Should I go back to the army again? This time as a soldier, this time as a man? Cause the sky is so big and my life is so small Like a dumb stupid photograph glued to the wall- And I'd cross both my eyes and I'd wiggle my toes And I'd bleed thru the heart and I'd pay through the nose. Oh please call me back to the battle of life And I promise to do as I'm told! Oh Father! Father Father Father, I'm cold.