Wake up, it's Christmas mourn Those loved have long since gone The stockings are hung but who cares preserved for those no longer there six feet beneath me sleep Black lights hang from the tree accents of dead holly Whoa mistletoe (It's growing cold) I'm seeing ghosts (I'm drinking old) Red water Red water Red water chase them away My tables been set for but seven just last year i dined with eleven goddamn ye merry gentlemen Whoa mistletoe (It's growing cold) I'm seeing ghosts (I'm drinking old) Red water Red water Red water chase them away.
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