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Cold Hands - Ezra Furman
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Cold Hands Ezra Furman

Cold Hands - Ezra Furman
I don't want your money
I don't want your car
I don't want you to love me
No need to take it so far
I just wanna be held in your cold hands
And I wanna be held in your cold hands

I see nothing finer
I see nothing to gain
No particular pleasure
To measure up to the pain
I just want to be held in your cold hands
And I want to be held in your cold hands

Now I'm a dog in the moonlight
And I'm a punk in the grass
I'm at your bedroom window tonight
Scratching up on the glass
I wanna be held in your cold hands
I just want to be held in your cold hands
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