(Yeah!. Whatever. One two three. It’s almost Christmas/New Year). I’ve seen snow on Christmas Eve. Gracing frosted evergreens. After most the trees go brown. I’m still standing. I’ve been miles away from home. Trapped in Charles Dickens’ poems. I’ve been freezing in this town. But I’m still standing. (One two three). - Chorus –. It’s almost New Year. In San Diego. Another Christmas. In Old Borego. Face-down in a little white shack in the back room. This town is a 35 Ford in a bad mood in a bad mood. I hear you when I’m asleep. Missy you’re the love I keep. But I still got no cash to send. In my pocket. It’s been months since we first kissed. But your face is what I miss. And I keep your picture bent in my pocket