The Christmas Tree

I’m searching for a Christmas tree.
It’s early, yes I know.
It’s only February twelfth,
and there could be some snow.

But now’s the time to get a tree.
It’s when you get a deal.
It is a buyer’s market now.
I could get me a steal.

Christmas is ten months away
but I could use it bad.
Some days have not been good for me.
In fact, they’ve been quite sad.

So I could use some cheering up
to cure me of this funk.
I got all of my Christmas lights
out of that basement trunk.

Hey, Christmas is a frame of mind,
it’s happiness and cheer.
I’d celebrate it every day
and not just once a year.

The tree is sacred in my mind;
you know that’s how I feel.
It is the symbol that I love,
so that tree must be real.

So now I need to find a tree.
I’d like one six feet tall,
with lots of branches sticking out.
Don’t give me one too small.

The problem with those Christmas trees?
They don’t last very long.
The tree can dry out in just weeks,
then things could go so wrong.

It’s gonna take ‘bout seven trees
‘til Christmas time is here.
Or maybe even eight or nine
to get me through the year.

I could just start my own tree farm
and save myself a ton.
… Oh hell, I’ll just break down and buy
an artificial one.


Merry Christmas everyone!