It got cold here first of December.

And all the crazy got fresh leased.

The cops got called at Timothy’s.

What will be the first of many…

It’s either famine, fast, or feast.

I really liked last November.

Finally got married for just a song.

We were humming some were smiling.

What will be the first of many.

Just don’t keep it up too long.

Christmas, New Years Twenty Twenty Five.

And all that happy sure will fade.

I’ve learned to harbor expectations.

In what will be the last of many.

Not all songs wrote and played.