Catching Cold - Don Dixon

Well there’re biscuits on the table and turkey on the stove

Ground rice steaming and green beans stringing and pie that’s?

Almond?

That’s the way to spend Thanksgiving, but I’m not there to sit and?

take it?

in

I live in constant fear of being rolled, 'cause I’m up in New York city

catching cold

Well there are stockings by the chimney, stuffed with nuts and tangerines

Grandma’s chuckle, wild babies gurgle, dads tie is red and green

The table is packed with food again, I’m still not there to lend a hand

And I’ll miss the greatest story ever told, 'cause I’m up in New York city

catching cold

Oh I wish that I could be there with the packages and bows

To catch you smiling sweetly underneath the mistletoe

My chair is sitting empty as they call me on the phone

And the whole damn yule time seasons come and go

The party hats get dusted off, the family resolute

The band parades while cute spring maids give out flag salutes

Up here where they drink to twelve o’clock and then tear up the Times Square

block

I think I see the ghost of Lombardo;

he’s up in New York City catching cold

I’ll take his arm and head out for a stroll, two spectres in a swirling icy blow

Up in New York City catching cold