It’s an old-fashioned
Bell - a silver-tingling, it’s a-ringing
The choir’s singing
Their wrists a-swinging, up and down
It’s an old-fashioned
Carriage ride, abiding on the crunchy snow
Fresh and new
Flakes still falling, silently blowing
It’s an old-fashioned
Popcorn string, winding ‘round the pine
Some popped
Into cherub mouths, those kids grinning
It’s an old-fashioned
Reading of the ghosts of past, present, future
Chills from the draft
As the...
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