Trace Faulkner - Pancakes Christmas Morning

Pancakes on Christmas morning don't ease the heartache later that night
Anyone in your corner is leaving on tomorrow's first flight
No I ain't been drinking but me and that fat man are gonna fight
And get through the motion of this antique notion
That everything's gotta die

No one hates the holidays but they treat them all like kin
The kind from your hometown you hope to never see and then
Every year like clockwork they're on your back again
The games they're playing they ain't entertaining
Making you wanna cry

No I'm not being brave
I just don't get off on your superstitions
Backhanded bible belt raised
Brought me up good on bad television
The greatest story I've ever been told

In some perfect world maybe once upon a time
No creature stirs not yours or even mine
A tale of two houses lost Hallmarks broken rhymes
The ghosts are only present 'coz the past is such a crime

Written by:
Benjamin Stranger, Trace Faulkner

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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