Tis the season for self pity
and bodies in the snow
For bullet wounds
and barbed tongues.
Tis the season to be sorry
Plummeting to earth
Through black and white clouds
To die in checkerboard fields
Peace and goodwill to all men.
and bodies in the snow
For bullet wounds
and barbed tongues.
Tis the season to be sorry
Plummeting to earth
Through black and white clouds
To die in checkerboard fields
Peace and goodwill to all men.
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