‘Twas the night before Christmas, as I sat in my house
Writing a letter to Santa, this is how it came out:
Dear Santa, I know that you’re busy, but I just need a minute
First, I don’t want to know a world that doesn’t have you in it.
The rosy cheeks, the cherry nose, the merry dimples
Take me back to a time when life was so simple.
So full of joy, that bowl full of jelly,
” But Santa’s not real” is what they continue to tell me.
But I’ll always believe, maybe that’s just me
I suppose this is when I tell you what I need.
I don’t really need presents, but this is the thing
What I really want are things you can’t bring.
I want to stop being sad every time my kids go,
I want to forgive myself for the things no one knows.
I want to forget some of the things that I’ve seen,
From tears to a last breath and things in between.
I don’t want pity, and I don’t want to be too sappy
But all that I want is for people to be happy.
I think I’ve been a good boy, and believe me when I say
That’s all people want at the end of the day.
But please don’t think that I don’t have it good,
I’ve got people that love me, as everybody should.
I’ve got bills that are paid, a roof and a floor,
I’ve got a job and a car, and oh so much more.
But some people don’t, and this is what I ask,
Can you take care of them, is that an easy enough task?
There’s people that I know that deserve so much more,
Whether it’s love or just a break, is that so much to ask for?
I know it’s not your job to provide these things,
But maybe some hope is what you could bring
To those who need you, because overall, I don’t,
And to those who tell me to stop believing, I won’t.
So as my daughters sleep in their beds tonight, go ahead and pass us by,
I’ll take care of things down here, just go to those who cry.
I raise my glass to you, good sir, as you ride with such delight,
Merry Christmas to all, here’s to the good life.