Minneapolis - Lucinda Williams

I’ve been waiting for you to come back since you left Minneapolis

Snow covers the streetlamps and the windowsills

The buildings and the brittle crooked trees

Dead leaves of December, thin-skinned and splintered

Never gotten used to this bitter winter

I’ve been wasted, angry and sad since you left Minneapolis

I wish my thoughts were pure like the driven snow

Like the heavens and the spring’s virgin buds

But they strangle me with their sin, fill me up with poison

Black clouds have covered up the sun again

I can always trace it back to that night in Minneapolis

Here on the seventh floor in a room I can’t call mine

Deadbolt on the door, 'do not disturb' sign

Shaking and trembling on the clean white linen

Slivers of starlight danced across the ceiling

A dozen yellow roses, all that’s left in Minneapolis

I wish I’d never seen your face or heard your voice

You’re a bad pain in my gut, I wanna spit you out

Open up this wound again, let my blood flow red and thin

Into the glistening, into the whiteness

Into the melting snow of Minneapolis