I'm not really sure
Where I should send this card
Because it's been a year now
Since you last sent word
So I have decided
To bring it in person
If I can find you
Out here in the cold
The storefronts on Euclid
Are dancing with candlelight
And the bookstore you mentioned
Has holly for Christmastime
But out where I'm standing
Is a blank frozen canvas
Of all Minneapolis
Buried in white
And that was our love
Harsh in its season, too
Of restless addictions
Twin cityscapes consumed
When both of our arms were
Round rubber hoses
And both of our hearts were
Bent, blackened spoons
But that was over
And you left with the record set
Now I wish I had sent you
All of the money that I had
Because I could have learned how
To play the piano
Or play the trombone
Or to play your old man
So if you're looking
You know where to find me now
Follow the footprints
That lead from the bookstore in the snow
But if you don't find me
A bright merry Christmas
Sincerely, Charlie
At the end of the road