stranded here in Hartford Christmas Eve the snow is falling on the planes out on the t\runway as a man sings hallelujah walking through the terminal, my ear against the phone I leave a message 'hon, I'm sorry kiss the boys it's getting hard just getting home there's a line in Hudson News through the shirts and souveneirs now I'm pushing through the fray there on the shelf of magazines like a beacon on the bay is the smile of Rachael Ray sitting in the bar with Marguerite she weighs her pour and gives a wink he mwerry christmas, sweetie pie you're looking tired, what'll it be?' and then she notices the recipe I'm reading and the smile of the chef who looks as perfect as a new homecoming queen Marguerite just taps the heels of her tired and swollen feet she's a million miles away where she can trade her sunken eyes and her dirty strands of gray for the smile of Rachael Ray Rachael's gonna show us how it's done in 30 minutes she'll be gone Rachael never ages, never changes, never hints that anything could've ever been wrong pulling in the driveway 3AM, the kitchen lights left on again I grab a beer and check the tree but there's no presents underneath and up the stairs a pair of empty little beds and by the clock she left a note said 'hon I'm sorry, but I think it's for the best' and the snow is falling down by the blinking little lights oh the joy of Christmas Day now may the season keep you warm may your memories never fade like the smile of Rachael Ray oh the smile of Rachael Ray