Finally they found me
Bony fingers of an old man dead
Fairy tales forgotten
Now monopolize my head
Heard it first at 3am
Woke up climbed out of bed
But there was nothing at the door
Howling in the branches
Rattling the floor
But I don't want to go there and
I don't want to know his name
His frost is on the forest floor
And in the budding trees
Quiet of the evening is shattered
By this old house's joints
Remember that you're missing
Back home to mother hen
Tried so hard to find yourself
Make something of what he left
But couldn't get your head back in line
Drunk on all your wishes
Forgetting all of mine
But I don't want to go there and
I don't want to know his name
His frost is on the forest floor
It's creeping towards my door
Jack Frost is in the clouds
Jack Frost is in the clouds
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