The Christmas spirit is not what you drink.
Snot is running down his nose, greasy fingers, smearing shabby clothes.
How can you laugh when your mother's hungry? How can you smile when the reasons for smiling are wrong?
You were bred for humanity and sold to society. One day you'll wake up in the present day, a million generations removed from the expectations of being who you really want to be.
Who would be a poor man, a beggar man, a thief, if he held a rich man in his hand?
I'll make love to you in all good places, under black mountains and open spaces.