In the middle of the summer

I'm not sleeping cold wind blowing

In the middle of the night

They try to find me but I'm still driving.

If you're going to san francisco

Lay some flowers on the grave stone

There's music on the station

And I'm just listening to cold wind whistling

And if they ever find me

Tell the papers cold wind, cold wind

Cold, cold wind blowing

Cold wind blowing.

Hey hey hey...

Something ain't right

Something ain't right

And if they ever find me

Tell the papers cold wind, cold wind

Cold, cold wind blowing

Cold wind blowing

Cold wind blowing

Cold wind blowing

Cold wind blowing.