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There is one last present under the Christmas tree,
I wonder whose it is?
Is it for the little girl with the rocking horse,
Or is it for Grandma or Aunt Liz?
It looks so lonely,
Sitting there by itself;
It'd certainly be an awesome addition
On somebody's shelf.
The ribbon is gold,
The paper is paisley red;
Who does it belong to?
Keeps rattling in my head;
I decided to snatch a peek,
And see whose name is on the card;
It'd only take a second,
It won't be very hard.
When no one was looking,
I reached under the tree,
Carefully handling the package,
Who knows, it may be for me!
But when I read the card,
I thought it was extraordinarily odd,
Because the message read,
Love and blessings, God.
I wonder whose it is?
Is it for the little girl with the rocking horse,
Or is it for Grandma or Aunt Liz?
It looks so lonely,
Sitting there by itself;
It'd certainly be an awesome addition
On somebody's shelf.
The ribbon is gold,
The paper is paisley red;
Who does it belong to?
Keeps rattling in my head;
I decided to snatch a peek,
And see whose name is on the card;
It'd only take a second,
It won't be very hard.
When no one was looking,
I reached under the tree,
Carefully handling the package,
Who knows, it may be for me!
But when I read the card,
I thought it was extraordinarily odd,
Because the message read,
Love and blessings, God.
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