It doesn’t really feel like Christmas
I guess it never really does
It’s just an advent of reminiscence
And a duty to deck the halls
I’m tangled up in my memories
Been getting these lights straight for days
As I’m counting down toward a remedy
For a missing magic I can’t escape
And now it’s the night before the day
The eve of when
Everything’s supposed to change
The promise has
Always been the same
Patience, my love
I did all the things I’m supposed to
This year I even cut down our tree
I did everything as an ode to
A past that seemed to make me happy
But if I believe
That what this season means
Is that all things will be new
Then nostalgia’s pull
Toward all that is old
Is not the way to…
The night before the day
The eve of when
Everything’s supposed to change
The promise has
Always been the same
Patience, my love
Waiting, I’m waiting…
We’re in the night before the day
The eve of when
Everything’s gonna change
The promise will
Always be the same
Patience, my love
There is nothing I’m “supposed to”
(And maybe this feels like Christmas)
Because everything will be new
(And maybe this feels like Christmas)
Words and music by Brody Bond. © Brody Bond. All rights reserved.