Dear, look to the Christmas angel
atop your Christmas tree.
Then all your wishes will come true,
When she smiles down on you.
Rush onward in your endless flight,
Oh, giant tyrants of the night.
Less shaded by a veil of gloom.
I fail to see the summer moon.
You sat on either side of me.
Your ages ten and twelve.
Through generations that separate, passed the essence of our soul
To bind us one, to one, to one...in spirit strong and free.
Thoughts of all sorts pervade the mind.
The way to release them is sometimes hard to find.
The brain holds them as if it were a jail.
They cannot be released on any kind of bail.