Fix Or Providence

Once every year you pack your bags
 And leave California for mom and dad
 And drunk uncle bobby and the rest of the family
 Waiting back home
 Open up there's a knock at the door
 They sing "Hallelujah, a Child is born"
 I do believe that I once knew the words
 When I was younger
 They ask how you manage to get by
 They quietly judge your undeveloped life
 They throw you some money and hand me downs
 Thanks for nothing
 So the story goes
 You and i know i know i know
 You question your choice to go back home
 For Christmas
 And you stand up on the couch
 While pointing your finger to those around
 Why don't you all just go to hell
 If that's what you think of me
 You try to make up with good intent
 Then smoke all your mother's cigarettes
 Call it a fix or providence
 When no one can see you see less