| Snow in the air as it rides the winter breeze
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| Crystals of ice are hanging from the trees
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| The morning of Christmas has arrived in its due time
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| The children are waiting, their joy becomes mine
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| We march down the stairs and into the other room
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| The lights shining bright on the tree for all to view
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| The window is shattered and the presents are all gone
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| And all the cries of my children wrote this song
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| And I swear when I get my hands on him
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| He’ll never breathe again, never breathe again
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| I won’t stop tearing him limb from limb
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| He’ll never breathe again, never breathe again
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| I get in my car to chase the only set of tracks
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| A gun in my hands and a bag in the back
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| Deep in the slums I saw him with their toys
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| My gunshot rang out but the snow absorbed the noise
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| I bagged up his body and I threw it in the car
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| With all the toys that he’d carried oh so far
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| Now that I got my hands on him
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| I can breathe again, I can breath again
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| Finally I’ve rid the world of him
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| And I can breathe again, I can breath again
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| Back at the house all my children were so sad
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| When their presents returned then not but joy they’ll surely have
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| I drove to the river and I threw the body in And no one else will be paying for his sin
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| Something screaming inside me says that
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| I can breathe again, I can breath again
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| Judge me all that your hearts desire
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| But I can breathe again, I can breath again |