Angelo Badalamenti, John Clifford
Old people talk to themselves
When they sit all 'round all day
This old woman I knew
I used to go over there and sit with her
And she'd be sitting around
In a rocking chair talking to herself
And she used to say she used to say
Sometimes the cold gets in my bones so bad
Till I just don't think I can go
Yeah and for a little while well I don't care
If my days are coming to an end
And just as soon be gone sometimes
Sometimes the night comes down on me
And I know what's ahead
An evening in this cold old house
With no one to say goodnight to me when I go to bed
An evening in this cold old house
With no one to say goodnight to me when I go to bed
Sometimes
I wonder why I stay
What am I waiting for
My children are grown and gone away
They got children of their own now
Don't need me anymore
In winter when the streets are bare
There ain't nothing much to see
I just can't help missing and thinking
About that kindly man
That one old winter time came
And took away from me
And then one morning
Another spring is there outside my door
Things are blooming
Birds are singing
And suddenly yes well I ain't sad
Ain't sad no more ain't sad no more