Christmas and the Kid Inside

This time of year there's something that seems to always occur No matter how hard we fight against it out pops the kid we once were There's something about Christmas that tends to turn back the clock Raising all kinds of old memories and giving our aging bodies a bit of a shock Oh, we try and deny it saying "Christmas has lost all its luster" And then the kid inside will answer saying "that's a lot of humbug and bluster" Most can't remember when they learned that all those presents under the tree Were actually put there by Dad as we slept dreaming so carefree But it doesn't seem to matter in those fleeting moments when the kid does arrive For a few precious seconds we are back home again young and alive On Christmas Eve as a kid I would run outdoors to scan the dark sky Hoping to see St. Nick's sleigh pulled by reindeer pass by And you may think me daft or beset with a host of other maladies For still today on Christmas Eve (when the kid arrives) out pop the whimsicalities I find myself standing on the porch looking upward like an old senile loon Waiting for St. Nick to fly by across the full moon.