A Song from the Attic (3)

This week another page in the diary got written... with a song! A Christmas song has appeared out of thin air - was it perhaps the ghost of Christmas past that held the pen? In these dark days close to Yule the past, present and future get easily intertwined. Although the signature at the bottom of the page is easily taken for that of a known songstress of our time one can never be sure!
I feel this may be the last entry in this diary in this form. Now that the lyrics are written only music needs to take shape. Perhaps this story will take a different turn, in a different time, in a different form....

“Noël, Noël,
Un seul voeux vers les cieux
Te retrouver, Noël

All the pretty places are calling me
I want more than their faces, want to dive deep
But there are guns in our suitcases
And I don’t know if I will make it through the day
You say that your season is one of joy
So I am counting the days to another Christmas Holiday
For I don’t have the strength to fight no more
And I need you to remind me of just what we’re fighting for
…Where are you Christmas?

Lying, in my bed
Fighting my thoughts, fighting your hymn
La-la-la-la-la-…
You say that your season is one of joy
So I am counting the days to another Christmas Holiday
‘Cause I don’t have the strength to fight no more
And I need you to remind me of just what we’re fighting for
…Where are you Christmas?

If I could, I would sail across the waters, a white flag in my hand
Longing to feel safe again, warm again, in your arms again
‘Cause I don’t have the strength to fight no more
And I need you to remind me of just what we’re fighting for
…Where are you Christmas? …Where are you Christmas?”

© A. Arsenault