Texty: Richard Thompson. Cold Feet.

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