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