I am the spirit of Christmas yet to come
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The future, the source of your grief
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And all the little details and the things left undone
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Catching you up underneath
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Gray snow falls, cold night comes down
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Into the hearts of the men in this town
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Chains on the stairs, a sudden chill
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Something beside you is keeping quite still
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I am the spirit of Christmas yet to come
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The future, the source of your grief
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Spirit of Christmas Yet To Come
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Steve Kilbey |