Thank the Lord the season is over, Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la Fake good cheer and forced composure, Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la Done with lights and awkward dinners, Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la Bless us all, we’re finally finished, Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la Pack away the tree and tinsel, Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la No more “smile” or “be more cheerful,” Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la Credit cards are crying softly, Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la January’s judging closely, Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la End the songs we’ve heard too often, Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la Silence feels like something sacred, Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la No more cheer we have to fake now, Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la Peace at last—no festive pressure, Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la Thank the Lord the season is over, Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la Back to normal, quiet, sober, Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la Let us rest and not explain it, Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la Next year? Yeah… let’s just ignore it. Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la
