Minneapolis Cold - Ron Pope, Lydia Luce

I walk to your house then back to mine

Sky a blue-black, it is four forty-five

In the morning I miss you, but I don’t know why

I don’t think that I love you, I just hate goodbyes

The winter we met you’d just dropped out of school

Heart like a Mustang ran out of fuel

Slept at your grandma’s cause your mother flew

Off on Mexican mud, smelled of church and perfume

I walk to your house then back to mine

Sky a blue-black, it is four forty-five

In the morning I miss you, but I don’t know why

I don’t think that I love you, I just hate goodbyes

The reverend he warned that we’re all born to lose

If we start out defective what is there to prove

Miss your ten dollar mouth and your ignorant shoes

If you read the good book I think you are confused

I walk to your house then back to mine

Sky a blue-black, it is four forty-five

In the morning I miss you, but I don’t know why

I don’t think that I love you, I just hate goodbyes

Sun’s comin' up as it usually does

Sins of the evening swept under the rug

Minneapolis cold in a Portland tow truck

I would laugh at myself but who am I to judge

I walk to your house then back to mine

Sky a blue-black, it is four forty-five

In the morning I miss you, but I don’t know why

I don’t think that I love you, I just hate goodbyes

I don’t think that I love you, I just hate goodbyes