These are your good years, don't take my advice.
you never wanted the nice boys anyway.
and I'm of good cheer cause I've been checking my list.

The gifts you're receiving from me will be one awkward silence and two hopes you cry yourself
to sleep, staying up, waiting by the phone.

You're the last thing I wanna see underneath the tree.


any and all comments or responses are welcome at boofydb@yahoo.com