She came wrapped up,
Like a Christmas gift.
So delicately put together
With all its folded corners
And golden bows.
Only to get ripped apart in the end
Oh, I love Christmas
The world warms for a day
Even if it's just for a day.
There is nothing warm about her
She is the epitome of cold.
I liked her hidden behind,
The beautifully deceitful wrapping paper
Because I couldn't see her true colours.
But, now, the paper is torn
And we will never be the same.
There is nothing warm about her
She is the epitome of cold.
There is nothing warm about her
She is the epitome of cold.
She was the package of anthrax that
Eventually killed me.
She was the package of anthrax that
Eventually killed me.
You seem unaffected... you are.
I seem unaffected... I'm not.
There is nothing warm about her -yeah
She is the epitome of cold.
There is nothing warm about her
There is nothing warm about you !
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