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