Now, please don't ask why. I don't quite know the reason.
Maybe my head isn't screwed on just right.
It could be, perhaps, that I just miss the lights.
Whatever the reason, my head or the bling
I hate ending Christmas- and this is the thing:
When Christmas is over I'm thinking, "What next?"
And I ponder and ponder and get quite perplexed.
It's not that this Christmas was all that fantastic;
We don't even get a real tree- ours is plastic!
But now that it's over and all put away,
There're no more distractions. I must face the day.
A new day. A new place. Another new year, yet...
What will I do with it? Welcome or Fear it?
Today must be started, whatever I do.
So start it I will. And I WILL NOT be blue.
And hey! Easter's just ninety five sleeps away.
And Christmas? Three hundred and fifty eight days.