Lyrics:

Okay, hey, I'm going outside
You can put the plate back on the shelf
And its cold, though the snow isn't falling
The neighbor can speak for himself

And the cold, hard, look in your eye
Is more than a line in the sand
And the truth gets hard to imagine
The hours get harder to stand

There's a seasick terminal passenger singing this song to himself
Till the store-bought soul on his skeleton leaks into somebody else
He's a seesaw caught in a storm, a hurricane after the war
When he drinks all the blood you can offer, he still wants more

Lemon plains, and rumbling trains
Are shaking the ground in our town again
Thought it twice, and kicking the ice
I got myself turned back around, singing

Everything's gonna be fine, sure that we'll both be okay
Hey, I'm backing outside, now just put the plate back on the shelf
And its cold, though the snow isn't falling
The temperature speaks for itself
Its a moonlit reason to quit, and nobody answers the phone
So if there's still blood left in your body, I'll come back home