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And finally, everything worked out just fine |
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Christmas was saved, though there wasn't much time |
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But after that night, things were never the same |
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Each holiday now knew the other one's name |
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And though that one Christmas, things got out of hand |
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I'm still rather fond of that skeleton man |
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So, many years later, I thought I'd drop in |
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And there was old Jack, still looking quite thin |
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With four or five skeleton children at hand |
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Playing strange little tunes in their xylophone band |
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And I asked old Jack, "Do you remember the night |
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When the sky was so dark and the moon shone so bright? |
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When a million small children pretending to sleep |
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Nearly didn't have Christmas at all, so to speak? |
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And would, if you could, turn that mighty clock back |
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To that long, fateful night, now, think carefully, Jack |
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Would you do the whole thing all over again |
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Knowing what you know now, knowing what you knew then?" |
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And he smiled, like the old Pumpkin King that I knew |
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Then turned and asked softly to me, "Wouldn't you?" |