Tyco Racing Set And A Christmas Story Fifteen Times

Here comes winter trial, wishing I could remember
 being a child. On my knees
 again begging for Jesus or
 maybe an OK friend. I have
 been betrayed, by an anger
 that broke me, broke me.
 Here's to what I could have
 done. Another year passes I
 still feel on the run. Pull the winter inside me, I draw
 a picture, but it's not the
 way you plan, ever. Round
 cold Christmas time I never
 feel quite real. My family
 fucks me up, some wounds
 don't ever seem to heal, I
 get drunk to forget their
 faces but part of me still misses a home. His holy
 infancy won't fill the hole.
 Round yon virgin tenderness
 be kind. The faithless they
 need you more than you
 realize. It seems like around
 Christmas time we're all
 hanging by thin strings. I
 try to dry my eyes but the
 rain just seems to cling,
 just seems to cling. Sleep
 and hope for January.