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I don't own anything, all rights go to their respective owners. Lyrics: Yeah, this town is going under The temperature's through the floor Your fingers are turning black There's a crisis knocking at your door 1977 1977 You had better try to make it home The snow is getting too deep to drive Your car might be your coffin 1977 1977 We're never going to see the summer This season is coming long and hard Yeah this town is going under This season's going to kill us all Count the snow flakes little children Count them as they bury you alive Count them as they choke the road ways A blizzard's coming in the year punk died 1977 The season has left us all helpless I can't see and even god is blind And deaf to all your prayers 1977 1977 There's nothing that you can do This weather's stronger than us all The sky is going to crush you 1977 1977 This season's growing cold And I fear that this could be the end And there's no sign of hope We've got a crisis on our hands The junkie is trapped indoors Pretty soon he's going to need a fix But the weather's not going to let him And he's starting to get the itch This season's holding us all hostage Better do whatever it demands Nixon knows that we've got a crisis Weighing oin our frost bitten hands 1 There's nothing that you can do The sky is going to crush you 9 There's nothing that you can do The sky is going to crush you 7 There's nothing that you can do The sky is going to crush you 7 There's nothing that you can do The sky is going to crush you This season's growing cold And I fear that this could be the end And there's no sign of hope We've got a crisis on our hands