They're singing silent night again and all I wanna do is die. I can't escape this Christmas cheer no matter where I hide. Christmas when I'm missing you has become a dagger in my side. If you had the courtesy to leave me any other time, then perhaps it wouldn't be so stark, I wouldn't feel the need to hide. Now I'm triggered by the flashing lights, the carols and the trees - the mistletoes, the Santas, and all the wisemen three. I want to erase you but you've given me the gift, of feeling every Christmas time like a miserable piece of shit.