May I remind you. May I remind you that you are through being the fresh blood. Everyone's seen the tricks you get up to. It's so nice, it's so cold. Your #17 You have a taste for something you liked to very long ago. Nothing can equal blazing a trail through fields of virgin snow. It's so warm, it's so sweet. Your #17. It's so firm, it's so neat. Your #17 You feel cold, you're a whiter shade of pale. Truth be told. Hellhounds on your trail. There goes your final nail. Love is a strange bird, taking us places we can never dream. Hard to imagine, how does it feel in someone else's skin? It's so cruel, it's so new. Your #17. It's so fresh, it's all through. Your #17. You've been told, it was in a silent way, you're too old to go on this way. You really should behave or face an early grave. There ain't a damn thing I'll ever say to make you change your mind, so take your fancy, knowing tomorrow is another time. It' so nice, it's so cold. Your #17. It's so soft, it's so bold. Your #17. It's so warm, it's so sweet. Your #17. It's so firm, it's so neat. Your #17. Your #17.