| The little ones
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| With wholesome hearts
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| Look forward in delight
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| To decorating trees
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| In awe of each and every light
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| But as for me it’s nothing new
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| A phase I long outgrew
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| Although this time I once held dear
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| I’m not really in the Christmas mood this year
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| The holiday films that they show
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| Where everyone is gay
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| And quarrels with a charm that somehow makes it all okay
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| But families are fickle things
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| And in reality
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| A tenderness is lost is clear
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| So I’m not really in the Christmas mood this year
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| Rain freezes to snow
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| All children grow old
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| And though the new year begins
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| A sweet little dream ends
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| And moving through the motions
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| We can pantomime content
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| Exchanging gift-wrapped tokens
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| Of the money that we spent
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| But repetition makes it hard
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| Not to see right through
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| Our time has come and passed, it’s clear
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| So I’m not really in the Christmas mood this year |