The Iowa weather was thirteen below I had come to Des Moines for a radio show I awoke in the evening from a traveler's sleep With notions of something to eat The old elevator slipped down past the floors My head and my eyes said you should have slept more The man at the desk said the restaurant was closed Outside it was fourteen below The lounge was still open and so I walked in In place of my food I had two double gins I looked round the room as a tourist would do That's when I saw the girl in the booth She sat there and cried in the smoky half dark The silent type crying that tears out your heart Her clothes were not cut in the new modern way And her suitcase had seen better days Nobody asked her what caused her such pain Nobody spoke up yet no one complained Without even asking I knew why she cried Life is just like that sometimes The man at the desk said it's fifteen below The bellhop said yeah man that's cold that's cold I went back to my room and I wrote down this song Oh it sure can get cold in Des Moines