Christmas Day - Jim White

Where in the world did you come from my dear?

Did some mysterious voice tell you I’d still be here?

I bought this ticket to Mobile, but I been stranded all day… p.a.

said the bus broke down ten miles away from the station.

So seldom a door… so seldom a key… so seldom a lock like the

love between you and me.

But seldom comes happiness without the

pain of the devil in the details since I saw the smile on your

face as I was crying in a Greyhound station on Christmas Day… in 1998.

The burden of love is the fuel of bad grammar.

You stutter and stammer--what a bitch to convey the crux of the

matter, when the words you must utter are hopelessly tangled in the memories and scars you show no one.

So seldom a door…

so seldom a key… so seldom a hit like the hurt you put on me.

But seldom comes happiness without the pain of the devil in the

details since I saw the smile on your face as I was crying in a Greyhound station on Christmas Day… in 1998. I remember quite clearly,

a bad Muzak version of James Taylor’s big hit, called «Fire and Rain»

was playing as you crouched down and tearfully kissed me, and I thought,

«Damn, what good fiction I will mold from this terrible pain.»

So seldom a door… so seldom a key… so seldom a gift like the gift you gave me.

But seldom comes happiness without the pain of the devil in the details since

I saw the smile on your face as I was crying in a Greyhound station on Christmas Day… in 1998. Amazing grace, how sweet the smile upon the face

I never thought I’d see you again… especially here in this Greyhound station…

on Christmas Day… in 1998