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 |