on the way home i thought of you
and everything we used to do
i made a choice to fight for you
and how it felt to be with you
the songs leaking from the radio
describe the way it feels
to be seperated, like the sea
and it still hurts in me
by myself, on a lonely eve
impaled by needles of the christmas tree
with all the christmas presents at my feet
and a puddle of clothes, naked at my knees
animals of wrapping paper all around,
and materialistic things were all i found
all i wanted was not allowed
and shipped left of south