98 Degrees

It's 98 degrees

but I'm cold. I feel cold at least;

in my bones I think i am cold.

I put on some pants, a jacket and a coat,

and I run from the cold. Five miles from home

what a sight I must be in my coat.

But I am still cold.

My sweat is cold, the sun on my neck is cold,

the blade of the knife is cold like the blood.

I thought blood is hot, but

my blood is 98 degrees cold.

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