| Song | Xmas Lights Spin |
| Artist | Mark Eitzel |
| Album | Caught in a Trap and I Can't Back Out 'Cause I Love You Too Much, Baby |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Well, haven't you seen that big sign | |
| Over on First and Seventh that says | |
| With words ten feet high and made of teeth | |
| "Oh reason not the need" and underneath | |
| Is a man doing an imitation of Satan | |
| But there is nothing evil in him | |
| He was just another saint that was made broken | |
| Next to an old doorway | |
| With a dark history of being left open | |
| Saint Nicholas | |
| Left your toys again behind at the bar | |
| A silver gun | |
| Aome dollar bills | |
| A lump of coal | |
| And wolves howling at your door | |
| A ceiling full of inflatable worlds | |
| And Xmas lights that spin all year round | |
| The question is always bigger than the answer | |
| It takes a nurse to ease you into your surrender | |
| As she smiles 'cause she knows you won't remember | |
| Things you should only be telling your mother | |
| As she counts you down, your drowned soul | |
| Tired and hard, defeated and getting mean | |
| And what's worse, the humiliations of a good time | |
| Or slipping into the routine | |
| Or for you is it | |
| All the same thing | |
| Saint Nicholas | |
| Left your toys again at the bar | |
| A silver gun | |
| Some dollar bills | |
| A lump of coal | |
| Wolves howling at your door | |
| Most people want to inhabit their lives | |
| Like ghosts and drift from room to room | |
| And brag about what imprisons them | |
| And wait for the sweep of a broom | |
| And written in the dust beneath your drink | |
| It says, “Deadness needs nothing to justify it” | |
| Like the ache that's crawling though your chest | |
| Needs nothing to amplify it | |
| For years you wore the crown | |
| Now the wolves are hunting you down | |
| And you're dead serious in your face | |
| You're dead serious now | |
| Want someone to see you | |
| Saint Nicholas | |
| The wolves all believe you | |
| Saint Nicholas | |
| The wolves all believe you |
| Well, haven' t you seen that big sign | |
| Over on First and Seventh that says | |
| With words ten feet high and made of teeth | |
| " Oh reason not the need" and underneath | |
| Is a man doing an imitation of Satan | |
| But there is nothing evil in him | |
| He was just another saint that was made broken | |
| Next to an old doorway | |
| With a dark history of being left open | |
| Saint Nicholas | |
| Left your toys again behind at the bar | |
| A silver gun | |
| Aome dollar bills | |
| A lump of coal | |
| And wolves howling at your door | |
| A ceiling full of inflatable worlds | |
| And Xmas lights that spin all year round | |
| The question is always bigger than the answer | |
| It takes a nurse to ease you into your surrender | |
| As she smiles ' cause she knows you won' t remember | |
| Things you should only be telling your mother | |
| As she counts you down, your drowned soul | |
| Tired and hard, defeated and getting mean | |
| And what' s worse, the humiliations of a good time | |
| Or slipping into the routine | |
| Or for you is it | |
| All the same thing | |
| Saint Nicholas | |
| Left your toys again at the bar | |
| A silver gun | |
| Some dollar bills | |
| A lump of coal | |
| Wolves howling at your door | |
| Most people want to inhabit their lives | |
| Like ghosts and drift from room to room | |
| And brag about what imprisons them | |
| And wait for the sweep of a broom | |
| And written in the dust beneath your drink | |
| It says, " Deadness needs nothing to justify it" | |
| Like the ache that' s crawling though your chest | |
| Needs nothing to amplify it | |
| For years you wore the crown | |
| Now the wolves are hunting you down | |
| And you' re dead serious in your face | |
| You' re dead serious now | |
| Want someone to see you | |
| Saint Nicholas | |
| The wolves all believe you | |
| Saint Nicholas | |
| The wolves all believe you |
| Well, haven' t you seen that big sign | |
| Over on First and Seventh that says | |
| With words ten feet high and made of teeth | |
| " Oh reason not the need" and underneath | |
| Is a man doing an imitation of Satan | |
| But there is nothing evil in him | |
| He was just another saint that was made broken | |
| Next to an old doorway | |
| With a dark history of being left open | |
| Saint Nicholas | |
| Left your toys again behind at the bar | |
| A silver gun | |
| Aome dollar bills | |
| A lump of coal | |
| And wolves howling at your door | |
| A ceiling full of inflatable worlds | |
| And Xmas lights that spin all year round | |
| The question is always bigger than the answer | |
| It takes a nurse to ease you into your surrender | |
| As she smiles ' cause she knows you won' t remember | |
| Things you should only be telling your mother | |
| As she counts you down, your drowned soul | |
| Tired and hard, defeated and getting mean | |
| And what' s worse, the humiliations of a good time | |
| Or slipping into the routine | |
| Or for you is it | |
| All the same thing | |
| Saint Nicholas | |
| Left your toys again at the bar | |
| A silver gun | |
| Some dollar bills | |
| A lump of coal | |
| Wolves howling at your door | |
| Most people want to inhabit their lives | |
| Like ghosts and drift from room to room | |
| And brag about what imprisons them | |
| And wait for the sweep of a broom | |
| And written in the dust beneath your drink | |
| It says, " Deadness needs nothing to justify it" | |
| Like the ache that' s crawling though your chest | |
| Needs nothing to amplify it | |
| For years you wore the crown | |
| Now the wolves are hunting you down | |
| And you' re dead serious in your face | |
| You' re dead serious now | |
| Want someone to see you | |
| Saint Nicholas | |
| The wolves all believe you | |
| Saint Nicholas | |
| The wolves all believe you |