I took a left where the old trail bends and found something strange below A town that shines from the ground itself—these mushrooms stand tall through snow Their caps are lit like Christmas bulbs hung above the street And everyone's still celebrating, every soul I meet The houses lean with wreaths on every door and candles in the panes There's holly woven through the eaves and bells on weathervanes A dozen voices caroling something I half-know And all the light's coming up from underneath—that's how you find, they're online The smoke smells sweet like gingerbread and pine boughs in the cold There's stockings hung from mushroom stems and stories being told Like every Christmas morning just decided not to go It's Christmas in the Hollow, where the mushrooms light the snow It's Christmas in the Hollow, deck the caps with mistletoe The gnomes are singing "peace on earth" in voices high and low In Holiday Hollow—where it's Christmas all-year-round, you know Somebody hands me mulled cider, says "welcome, pull up close" The drink is warm and tastes like clove and cinnamon French toast They're laughing over nothing much, exchanging tiny gifts The kind of Christmas spirit that you thought no longer exists A kid in a hand-knit sweater points up and says "just wait" The mushrooms pulse like ornaments—a rhythm I can't place It's "Silent Night" but different, played on instruments of light And suddenly I'm harmonizing—singing through the night The streets are lined with garland made of lichen, moss, and vine There's presents wrapped in bark and bows, and everything feels fine They say: "The Hollow keeps December for the ones who need more time" It's Christmas in the Hollow, where the mushrooms light the snow It's Christmas in the Hollow, deck the caps with mistletoe The gnomes are singing "peace on earth" in voices high and low In Holiday Hollow—where it's Christmas all-year-round, you know I used to think December ended when you packed the tree away That wonder was a weekly thing—just one more holiday But here it grows like something rooted deeper than the ground You don't have to wait all year—you just have to let yourself be found It's Christmas in the Hollow, where the mushrooms light the snow It's Christmas in the Hollow, deck the caps with mistletoe The gnomes are singing "peace on earth" in voices high and low In Holiday Hollow—where it's Christmas all-year-round, you know In Holiday Hollow—where it's Christmas all-year-round, you know In Holiday Hollow—where it's Christmas all-year-round, you know
