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• Artiste: Richard Thompson
• Titre: Cold Feet
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I know you're the wayward kind The way you always drag behind You show me a horse and I'll feed it in hay You show me the cart and I'll throw it away Prettiest face I've ever seen You look like something in a magazine To a blind man it's plain to see That I need you and you need me I've got cold feet, it's a crazy chasing When things get serious time is a wasting I'd cross my fingers but they don't seem to meet There's no need to tell me that I've got cold feet, a-ha-ha You took me home to tell your dad That you were the best girl I've ever had I stayed for dinner, I couldn't refuse I spilled the tea and I ate the news Oh you must think you're really neat Got me tied down to my seat And I can't move, it's so hard to think With a cramp in my eyelids and I can't blink Well I've got cold feet, it's a crazy chasing When things get serious time is a wasting I'd cross my fingers but they don't seem to meet There's no need to tell me that I've got cold feet, a-ha-ha