The singers at my door are wasting their time, they'll live their footprints in the snow that has settled outside. I don't want to leave my house or even my room. I'm refusing offers of company and plates of food. "what has happened" you say "to make you feel this way?" I don't know. My turntable plays me songs that sound so sweet, I'm listening to someone who's better than me. Oh Santa! Why'd you bring this? That was so mean. Oh Santa! Why'd you bring this and then just leave? You're sitting outside my door whispering things like "please come out soon, I've brought you some drinks". If I respond politely will you go away? I'm not going to leave this room until boxing day.