[Intro – spoken, fast, half-whisper] It was supposed to last all month. We made speeches. We made rules. We said, “Only one a day.” Reality said: “Sure… try me.” [Verse 1] Twenty-four little doors, twenty-four good plans, we lined them up like better humans than our friends. “It’s for the kids,” we said, halos on our heads, five quiet minutes later, we were halfway through instead. “We’ll teach them patience, magic, all that stuff,” “just one to try” somehow was never quite enough. Three bites deep into “we just checked it’s fine”, the calendar already looked like it survived a tiny crime. [Pre-Chorus] We were one step from calling it a total dis–aster, but we chewed fast, talked fast, spun it even faster: “This is not cheating, this is quality control, this is holiday science for the soul.” [Chorus] Gone on day one, gone-gone on day one, twenty-four days, we gave it ten minutes of fun. Caught in the act with the cardboard warm, call it “tradition”, not a food storm. Gone on day one, gone-gone on day one, “it was for the children”, but the parents won. If guilt had a flavour, it would taste like this, sweet little crime in a chocolate kiss. [Verse 2] Next morning tiny footsteps, sleepy little eyes, they ran to the calendar, we rehearsed our alibis. “Maybe Santa took a sample, maybe elves were here,” we built full fanfiction just to dodge the mirror near. We printed new excuses like discount labels in a store, “it melted”, “it was broken”, “it fell down onto the floor”. We were one thought away from calling ourselves sh–, but shrugged it off and mumbled, “we’ll just buy another kit.” [Pre-Chorus 2] We were so close to naming it a total train wr–eck, but smoothed our faces, cashed our inner cheque: “This is not greedy, this is how we cope, this is edible therapy with a side of hope.” [Chorus] Gone on day one, gone-gone on day one, twenty-four days, we gave it ten minutes of fun. We blamed the elves, the dog, the frost, anything but our own sweet loss. Gone on day one, gone-gone on day one, “we’re responsible adults” till the chocolate’s gone. If shame had a jingle, it would sound like this, laugh through the crumbs, call it “holiday bliss”. [Bridge – chant] Who said “one a day”? (Who said that? Not me.) Who left us alone with sugar and no sleep? (Bad idea, clearly.) We tested for poison, we tested for fate, we tested how fast two people can annihilate a plate. – “Was it wrong?” – “A little bit.” – “Was it good?” – “Every bit.” – “Would we do it all again?” – “…obviously.” – “Do not pretend we wouldn’t.” [Breakdown – rhythmic hook] Day one, day done, door one, all gone. Day one, day done, call it “chaos”, call it “fun”. Day one, day done, parents zero, sugar won. Day one, day done, we just sigh, “whoops… tradition.” [Final Chorus] Gone on day one, gone-gone on day one, twenty-four days, we gave it ten minutes of fun. Half-grinch, half-saint, half-running on crumbs, the calendar died to the beat of our thumbs. Gone on day one, gone-gone on day one, if Christmas had a crime, this would be the one. If anyone asks, we were "saving the kids" – from low-quality chocolate. That’s it. [outro]
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