Social Distortion : Cold Feelings - Bad Luck

Punk-Rock / USA
(1992 - Epic Records)
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1. COLD FEELINGS

Uninvited feelings
They come without warning and they stay too long
I don't want to feel, and if I run they'll be twice as strong.
I wait for a warning, I'm waiting for some kind of sign,
I try to separate , Try to separate my body from my mind.
I watch the clock as the second hand slowly goes strolling by.
I don't want to feel
When a loved one's time comes to die
I wait for a warning,
I'm waiting for some kind of sign
I try to separate, try to separate my body from my mind.

Cold feelings in the night
You know, this feeling just ain't right.

And though I try I just can't hide
Cold feelings in the night
Yeah I got faith,
But sometimes fear it just weighs too much I don't want to feel,
Cold winds blowin' through me with an icy touch.
I wait for a warning, I'm waiting for some kind of sign.

I try to separate,
Try to separate my body from my mind.

Cold feelings in the night
You know, this feeling just ain't right.
And though I try I just can't hide
Cold feelings in the night

Cold feelings in the night
You know, this feeling just ain't right.
And though I try I just can't hide
Cold feelings in the night


2. BAD LUCK (LIVE ACOUSTIC)

Some people like to gamble,
But you, you always lose.
Some people like to rock 'n' roll,
You're always singin' the blues
You gotta nasty disposition,
No one really knows the reason why,
You gotta bad, bad reputation,
Gonna hang your head down and cry

You got bad, bad luck
Bad, bad luck
You got bad, bad luck
Bad, bad luck

Thirteen's my lucky number,
To you it means stay inside.
Black cat done crossed my path,
No reason to run and hide.

You're looking through a cracked mirror,
No one really knows the reason why.
Your enemies are gettin' nearer,
Gonna hang down your head and cry

You got bad, bad luck
Bad, bad luck
You got bad, bad luck
Bad, bad luck

Some people go to church on Sundays,
Others they pray at home.

You tell them that there ain't no God,
That they're better off standin' alone.
You're always scratchin' at the eight ball,
No one really knows the reason why.
You get to the top and then you fall,
Gonna hang down your head and cry.



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