Lyrics 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 your moonlight
Now 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 wanna be held in your cold hands