[Verse 1]
Cereal aisle at the all-night Pack-n-Save,
cart with one wheel pulling left like a bad wave,
and there's Denny Oaks from the back row in homeroom,
blocking the frozen peas, filling up the whole room.
He goes "look at you," like I'm a rerun on channel nine,
I go "look at you," just stalling for time,
we already covered weather, covered it twice through,
now the quiet's thicker than the fog on Route 2.
He asks about my job, I ask about his kid,
trading small talk dull as a butter knife lid,
nothing cutting deep, nobody getting hurt,
just two ghosts loitering by the discount dessert.
[Chorus]
This is the ghost of Christmas past,
standing in the cereal aisle, wondering how long this'll last,
nothing left to trade but the weather and the years,
two familiar faces holding up the same old fears.
Nothing left to trade but the weather and the years,
just two familiar faces, stuck here, holding up old fears.
[Verse 2]
Before the holidays come circling back around,
I open the app, check the old hometown ground,
feed says the diner finally fixed that busted sign,
the river bridge is closed for the whole wintertime,
new girl's running the bank where my mama used to bank,
the gym floor's refinished, the booster club gets thanked,
so when Denny opens up with the same tired start,
I've got the bridge, the bank, something fresh to impart.
I ask him, "they really shutting down Lincoln Street?"
and his whole face lifts like we're finally gonna meet,
not reciting lines two ghosts already knew by heart,
just a couple people catching up on the town's new chart.
[Bridge]
It won't undo the years that drifted in between us,
won't make us close just 'cause the talk ain't lean,
won't turn Denny Oaks back to who he was at seventeen,
and it won't turn me back either, however that sounds.
Some nights I still drive off feeling thin and strange,
knowing a headline can't replace the actual change.
[Chorus]
This is the ghost of Christmas past,
standing in the cereal aisle, wondering how long this'll last,
nothing left to trade but the weather and the years,
two familiar faces holding up the same old fears.
Nothing left to trade but the weather and the years,
just two familiar faces, stuck here, holding up old fears.
[Chorus]
This is the ghost of Christmas past,
standing in the cereal aisle, wondering how long this'll last,
nothing left to trade but the weather and the years,
two familiar faces holding up the same old fears.
Nothing left to trade but the weather and the years,
just two familiar faces, stuck here, holding up old fears.