December 96, when we were young, when we were kids.
When the tree was all we worshipped, and the gifts were a close second.
And the snow fell down, down, down.
And fireman Santa came to town,
Thinking back, it's kind of creepy, the way he looked so greasy.
And dad was tuned to channel 5,
And mom was on the telephone wire,
Talking happily with her mother,
Who was a thousand miles away from her.
Me and my dear brother, and our good old friend, red Simba
Ken Griffith and Kong Diddith
And all those creatures we explored the world with.
You're the ghost of Christmas past, blended fire and glass. Fragile as a fig.
You're the ghost of winters ash,
At some New Years bash,
To reignite not again.
Wrapping paper on the ground,
Two dogs wrestling in it,
That sound of crunching memories,
Nostalgia and fake Christmas trees.
All those road trips town to town,
Observing lights from house to house to house-
The ones that looked like icicles were the shh--, they just became fashionable.
And dad hid his sleigh bells under leather seats, or maybe it was just the crown vic breaking down.
Said it was Santa overheard, though we couldn't ever spot him.
And on Christmas Eve we didn't sleep a wink, we'd lay silent and we couldn't think,
The wraiths did come to visit us, and the misers none the wiser.
Mommas gonna be so mad, that were still up and it's half past 10,
But tv land is on, and Marleys chains still clang clang clang along.
You're the ghost of Christmas yet to come, yet you still ramble on, as if it won't ever change.
You're the ghost of kingdom come,
But still you carry on,
As if the spirit hasn't faded away.