You wind me up and place me at the top of the stairs
And I tumble to my d**h
And the mess that's left on the bottom step
Is broken beyond repair
But you try to fix me anyway
You know I'd do the same for you
But it's no good
No, it's too late
I'm junk that's barely used
I wake upon a cold damp bed
My eyes are filled with tears
For all the things that I require
It's like this every year
The moon, the sun
The laughing leaves
The bright white stars won't listen to me
The gods have come to everyone but me
And everything but me
And I'm feeling like a Christmas tree
With my arms outstretched for anything
The time has come indefinitely
To make me beautiful
If you came on Christmas day
You would find me packed away
Inside a box in a cold dark loft
Forgotten every year