Our Love's Become Selling Secrets To The Russians They Don't Need

four christmases ago, was the first time you told me i wasn't what you wanted.
every year since then hasn't been the same.
you aways come creeping around this time of year.
yesterday we talked for the first time in a long time,
and today seeing you having your first christmas with someone new, when after all this time you couldn't just let me have one.
did you go home to her after you saw me?
how could you look us both in the eyes on the same day with that same look on your face.
adoration.

so here i am on christmas day, changing the color of my hair.
because yesterday you told me you like it.
and i was doing just fine today until i saw your christmas pictures.
now im writing on this stupid blog again, because i don't know how else to scream to the world that im so fucking mad you can't just love me anyway.
so fucking mad at this invisible wall between us that won't let us reach eachother no matter how many times we both try.























"give up some more to be with you.
oh cause what good is seeing if love's not looking back at you,
and what good is feeling if my hands aren't touching you.

and another angel came down,
he was wearing only a cloud,
he said sew up the bad that you've done
cause tomorrow christmas day comes

cry into your christmas cake, don't know what else to do.
cry into my christmas cake."