**THE LYRICS**

Smell of the wood stove.
The weather's turned colder.
I stand in my old room.
It feels much the same.

I come here each year, though
I'm feeling much older.
The established routine
points to how things have changed.

Tell me, where is the old tree? They cut it down, I hear.
Tell me, where is the young girl? Gone for good, I fear.
Still we hold up our candles to the heavens and cheer.
It's glimmering, golden,
The same year to year
The candles, they glow in the chandelier.

We shoulder our burdens.
We sing all the carols.
We fall into old patterns.
We dig up old pains.

Still we try to preserve it,
the perfect illusion
in the hope that in the new year
we can turn a new page.

'Cause it won't last forever,
that much is clear.
It's an ever-shifting landscape,
this family we hold dear.
So we raise up our candles to the ones who aren't here.
It's glimmering, golden.
See them, my dear?
See how they shine from the chandelier....

We set the table
We drink all the eggnog
and we spin all the old songs
though the record is frayed.

We crowd around Grandpa
as he reads the stories,
though the grandkids are grown now
and are getting engaged.

Still we know it's the good life!
We laugh and we cheer
and we sing "holy holy" at the darkest time of year.
When we burn like the candles, for a moment it's real:
The world, it is golden,
sparkling and clear
like the world we behold in the chandelier,
the world we behold in the chandelier.