Cold Cold Ground
Journey to the Cold Ground: A Tale of Love, Loss, and Desperation
Lyrics
Oh the clock here in the barroom says its half past nine.
Expressing the current time in the bar, setting the scene for reflection.
That's usually how long it takes me to drink my first bottle of wine.
Indicating a habitual behavior of consuming a bottle of wine in about half an hour.
Yes every fifteen minutes, I can drink another bottle down
Highlighting a repetitive cycle of drinking a bottle every fifteen minutes.
And get fifteen minutes closer to that cold,cold ground, to that cold cold ground.
Reflecting on the inevitable progression towards death with each drink, emphasizing the coldness of the grave.
Well I think I'll play the jukebox and light up another cigarette
Deciding to play the jukebox and smoke, acknowledging the potential harm of these actions.
They say for every puff of that loving smoke you get another minute closer to death.
Linking smoking to the concept of mortality, suggesting that every puff brings one closer to death.
Well I smoke two or three packs a day and my arithmetic is not to sound.
Admitting to a high daily cigarette consumption without precise counting.
But I know I'm getting hours closer to that cold,cold ground.
Acknowledging the passage of time and the approaching end, framed within the coldness of the grave.
To that cold, cold ground.
Reiterating the impending cold fate mentioned earlier.
Now this morning I had me a woman and a love so nice and fine.
Recalling a past love that was once fulfilling and beautiful.
But this evening I watched her board that train and move on down the line.
Expressing the pain of witnessing the loved one leave on a train.
Our love was so good but now she's gone and this is what I've found.
Reflecting on the positive memories of love, now contrasted with the pain of separation.
Her leaving sure brought me closer to that cold, cold ground.
Connecting the departure of the woman to a heightened awareness of mortality, echoing the theme of approaching death.
To that cold, cold ground.
Reaffirming the inevitability of the cold ground, emphasizing the emotional impact of lost love.
Well I'm standing in the back alley with a pistol in my hand.
Describing a desperate situation with a pistol, possibly contemplating self-harm or revenge.
I never thought a women's love could do this to a man.
Expressing surprise at the destructive power of a woman's love.
I hear that hammer clickin',what a sweet, terrible sound.
Noting the ominous sound of a hammer, symbolizing the finality of death.
Let my tombstone read "no liquor, no smoke, no drugs,
Suggesting a desire for a clean, virtuous life in retrospect, contrary to the preceding vices.
But a woman's love put me in that cold, cold ground.Put me in that cold, cold ground.
Concluding with the acknowledgment that, despite the desire for a virtuous life, the impact of a woman's love has led to the cold ground.
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