| It’s almost December, it’s nearly a year
|
| Since we took down our little tree
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| Packed all the boxes and tinsel away
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| And left it out in the street
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| It’s almost December, it’s nearly a year
|
| Since you just left me
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| Packed up a suitcase while I was asleep
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| And crept out quietly
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| (I still find…)
|
| Blue spruce needles under the couch when I clean
|
| (It reminds…)
|
| Me that people fall out of love so easily
|
| (I still find…)
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| Blue spruce needles whenever I sweep out my heart
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| If Christmas is about being together,
|
| Then how can it be Christmas if we are apart?
|
| It’s almost December, it’s nearly a year
|
| Since we took down our little tree
|
| I know that I shouldn’t be thinking about it
|
| But I can’t forget easily
|
| (I still find…)
|
| Blue spruce needles under the couch when I clean
|
| (It reminds…)
|
| Me that people fall out of love so easily
|
| (I still find…)
|
| Blue spruce needles whenever I sweep out my heart
|
| If Christmas is about being together,
|
| Then how can it be Christmas if we are apart?
|
| If Christmas is about being together,
|
| Then how can it be Christmas if we are apart?
|
| (I still find…)
|
| Blue spruce needles under the couch when I clean
|
| (It reminds…)
|
| Me that people fall out of love so easily
|
| (I still find…)
|
| Blue spruce needles whenever I sweep out my heart
|
| If Christmas is about being together,
|
| Then how can it be Christmas if we are apart?
|
| If Christmas is about being together,
|
| Then how can it be Christmas if we are apart? |