<< 25th December >>
--- Everything But The Girl

And I see forests and it's the 25th December and my old man plays the
piano for Christmas.  He plays the piano for Christmas.  And we're all
there, all the aunties and uncles, and the angels on the top of the
tree.  Up there on the top of the tree.  And I never, no I never ever
realised.  And I never, no I never ever realised.  Have I enough time,
have I just some time, to revisit, to go back, to return, to open my
mouth again and say something different this time.  And I see bags of
newspapers and a car in the carport, and you're grown up and still
unsure, and I'm thirty and I don't know nothing no more.  And I never, no
I never ever realised.  And I never, no I never ever realised.  And I'm
sitting, sitting at the top of the stairs, and you're crying out on the
towpath by the river with all the swans and all the people walking by.
And all of a sudden I'm struck with an urge to unlock a door with a key
that's too big for my hands and I drop it, and it falls at your feet.
Come on, come on, it's there at your feet.  And I never, no I never ever
realised.  And I never, no I never ever realised.  (Come on, come on,
it's there at your feet).....