The Mother Vine - Collapse Culture

I'll wait my turn It's not my nature to rush the job If you could trust That I'll be workin' til I turn to rust for you So take my word You can lift it like a baby bird I'll set you free If I was you, I'd leave it up to me He'll never dance you like I dance you He doesn't sing and he doesn't shine His life is wasted, he's only tasted The fruit that ripens off the vine I'll wait my turn It's not my nature to rush the job I'll bide my time I get stronger at the end of the line And I will crawl If running to you doesn't give me a star I'll set you free If I was you, I'd leave it up to me He'll never dance you like I dance you He doesn't sing and he doesn't shine His life is wasted, he's only tasted The fruit that ripened off the vine He'll never dance you like I dance you He doesn't sing and he doesn't shine His life is wasted, he's only tasted The fruit that ripened off the vine

It's getting colder now that your not around No holiday without you New York so pretty when the snow hits the ground I miss those winters with you Maybe it's too much to ask for Missing your feet on the dashboard Running through pages of passports Without you Now I'm alone by the fireplace Thinking about how it all changed This is the season of heartbreaks Without you No more mistletoe, ugly sweaters, bad cologne No more deck the halls in this place we called a home An attic full of baggage I pretend that I'll unpack There's something 'bout the holidays that makes me want you back Oo-oo-oo, oo-oo, oo-oo, oo-oo-oo Got everything I want last Christmas This year there's a couple things missing You're the only thing left on my wish list These nights I'm reminiscing Back when your green eyes shined brighter than the tree And we watched home alone high until we fell asleep Maybe it's too much to ask for Missing your feet on the dashboard Running through pages of passports Without you Now I'm alone by the fireplace Thinking about how it all changed This is the season of heartbreaks Without you No more mistletoe, ugly sweaters, bad cologne No more deck the halls in this place we called a home An attic full of baggage I pretend that I'll unpack There's something 'bout the holidays that make me want you back Oo-oo-oo, oo-oo, oo-oo, oo-oo-oo Oo-oo-oo, oo-oo, oo-oo, oo-oo-oo No more mistletoe, ugly sweaters, bad cologne No more deck the halls in this place we called a home An attic full of baggage I pretend that I'll unpack There's something 'bout the holidays that make me want you back Oo-oo-oo, oo-oo, oo-oo, oo-oo-oo Oo-oo-oo, oo-oo, oo-oo, oo-oo-oo There's something 'bout the holidays that make me want you back