Текст: Garth Brooks. Ropin' The Wind. Cold Shoulder.

There's a fire burning bright at our house tonight
Slow music playing and soft candlelight
On her lips I keep tasting the warm red wine
I'm there in her arms but it's all in my mind

The snow is piled high on the highway tonight
I'm a ship lost at sea, on this ocean of white
Eighteen wheels anchored somewhere out of Dover
I wish I could hold her, instead of huggin' this old cold shoulder

This old highway is like a woman sometimes
She can be your best friend but she's the real jealous kind
She's the lady that leads me to the life I dream of
And she's the mistress that keeps me from the ones that I love

The snow is piled high on the highway tonight
I'm a ship lost at sea, on this ocean of white
Eighteen wheels anchored somewhere out of Dover
I wish I could hold her, instead of huggin' this old cold shoulder

God, I wish I could hold her
Instead of huggin' this old cold shoulder