Wake up, it's Christmas mourn Those loved have long since gone The stockings are hung, but who cares? Reserved for those no longer there Six feet beneath me sleep Black lights hang from the tree Accents of dead holly Whoa mistletoe (It's growing cold) I'm seeing ghost (I'm drinking old) Red water Red water Red water, chase them away My table's been set for but seven Just last year I dined with eleven God damn ye, merry gentlemen Whoa mistletoe (It's growing cold) I'm seeing ghosts (I'm drinking old) Red water Red water Red water chase them away