Wake up, it's Christmas mourn Those loved has long since gone The stockings are hung but who cares Preserved for those no longer there Six feet beneath me sleep
Black lights hang from the tree Accents of dead holly
Whoa mistletoe (It's growing cold) I'm seeing ghosts (I'm drinking old) Red water Red water Red water chase them away
My table's been set for but seven Just last year I dined with eleven God damn ye merry gentlemen
Whoa mistletoe (It's growing cold) I'm seeing ghosts (I'm drinking old) Red water Red water Red water chase them away