DECEMBER… WHICH DECEMBER ?

The Christmas lights are on once again,
no that I care about it anymore,
I'm trying no to lose since there's no gain,
I have survived so many times before.

December… which December was a thrill?
Too many to consider in a song,
these last few years always made me ill,
I haven't been home for Christmas for too long.

To think of it, I don’t know where is home,
it's only just an abstract thought of mine,
perhaps in Crete, watching the white sea foam,
maybe in London, drinking some old wine.

My mother, or my wife, or my kid?
My girl friend, which one, with what excuse?
If I didn’t fuck my life then who did?
For any destination I've no use.

I think I'll stay stranded where I am,
watching this lonely silent Christmas light,
its flicker such a pain in the bum,
as a good as any other boring sight.