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I'll call my carrier pigeons home |
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From a window where I stand alone |
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I'll draw the blinds and fall asleep |
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In an attic full of make-believe |
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Where carolers sing below |
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With bells in the falling snow |
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Their shadows against the white |
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On streets of electric light |
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At the bar I'll watch the news awhile |
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Just to see the anchor woman smile |
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On a stage I'll sing an Elvis song |
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Just to hear the barmaids sing along |
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Mirrors and razor blades |
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Christmas eve parades |
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A murder by mistletoe |
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Drunks in the falling snow |
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She left him by the night arcade |
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And turned his heart into a spade |
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He turned that lovely blue eyed Jane |
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To a homicide on Campbell Lane |
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Hearing the sirens croon |
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In a familiar room |
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Laying with last year's love |
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High as the moon above |
