It's the eve before Christmas, the best eve of the year.
But I can't help but cry, and shed a tear.
Why you might ask, would I be crying on Christmas?
Probably because everything is so different.
I don't feel excitement, or happiness in the least.
It seems like any other day, but with a holiday feast.
I wish I could go back to when I was seven,
Where Christmas was basically one day of heaven.
But those days are gone, as well as the rest of them,
and now I am laying like baby Jesus in Bethlehem,
wishing that I could be happy again,
hoping that someday I will feel the same.
Dec 24, 2015
Dec 24, 2015 at 3:29 PM UTC
It's the eve before Christmas, the best eve of the year.
But I can't help but cry, and shed a tear.
Why you might ask, would I be crying on Christmas?
Probably because everything is so different.
I don't feel excitement, or happiness in the least.
It seems like any other day, but with a holiday feast.
I wish I could go back to when I was seven,
Where Christmas was basically one day of heaven.
But those days are gone, as well as the rest of them,
and now I am laying like baby Jesus in Bethlehem,
wishing that I could be happy again,
hoping that someday I will feel the same.
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