Chiefgango
12/23/08, 10:43 AM
Maybe I'm just nostalgic
Not to mention older
But at this time of year
Any lump in my throat soon becomes a fountain
It's not just the change in the weather
It's what comes with it
The natural full stop
Ending the complex sentence of the year
I stood in a garden centre
On the 23rd of December
Joyously blinded by lights
And imobolised by fascination
The green and golds and reds
Of the season floated around me
As a clockwork marching band played on and on
Just another year
At home, mugs of a forgotten charitable mood
Suddenly rekindled 'childen in need' around their own snow
And by flicking a switch, or swinging a door
The ever-annoying midi-jingle bells rang aloud
But all I could do was stare ahead
For, although I was taller, and the christmas tree-village seemed smaller
I knew that this would never, ever, ever change
Not until I shuffle off this bittersweet tragedy
So on with the cliche
The last rites to make you sneer
Good luck with the future
Merry Christmas, and a happy new year
Not to mention older
But at this time of year
Any lump in my throat soon becomes a fountain
It's not just the change in the weather
It's what comes with it
The natural full stop
Ending the complex sentence of the year
I stood in a garden centre
On the 23rd of December
Joyously blinded by lights
And imobolised by fascination
The green and golds and reds
Of the season floated around me
As a clockwork marching band played on and on
Just another year
At home, mugs of a forgotten charitable mood
Suddenly rekindled 'childen in need' around their own snow
And by flicking a switch, or swinging a door
The ever-annoying midi-jingle bells rang aloud
But all I could do was stare ahead
For, although I was taller, and the christmas tree-village seemed smaller
I knew that this would never, ever, ever change
Not until I shuffle off this bittersweet tragedy
So on with the cliche
The last rites to make you sneer
Good luck with the future
Merry Christmas, and a happy new year