Jack’s Obsession

Something's up with Jack, something's up with Jack.
Don't know if we're ever going to get him back.
He's all alone up there, locked away inside.
Never says a word. Hope hasn't died.
Something's up with Jack, something's up with Jack.
Christmastime is buzzing in my skull.
Will it let me be? I cannot tell.
There's so many things I cannot grasp.
When I think I've got it and then at last.
Through my bony fingers it does slip,
like a snowflake in a fiery grip.
Something here I'm not quite getting,
though I try I keep forgetting,
like a memory long since past.
Here in an instant, gone in a flash.
What does it mean? What does it mean?
In these little bric-a-brac,
a secrets waiting to be cracked.
These dolls and toys confuse me so,
confound it all, I love it though.
Simple objects, nothing more,
but something's hidden through a door,
though I do not have the key.
Something's here I cannot see.
What does it mean? What does it mean?
What does it mean? Hmm..
I've read these Christmas books so many times.
I know the stories and I know the rhymes.
I know the Christmas carols all by heart.
My skull's so full it's tearing me apart.
As often as I've read them, something's wrong.
So hard to put my bony finger on.
Or perhaps it's really not as deep as I've been led to think.
Am I trying much too hard? Of course. I've been too close to see.
The answer's right in front of me.
Right in front of me.
It's simple really, very clear,
like music drifting in the air.
Invisible, but everywhere.
Just because I cannot see it doesn't mean I can't believe it.
You know, I think this Christmas thing
is not as tricky as it seems.
And why should they have all the fun?
It should belong to anyone.
Not anyone, in fact, but me.
Why, I could make a Christmas tree.
And there's no reason I can find
I couldn't handle Christmastime.
I bet I could improve it, too, and that's exactly what I'll do.
(evil laugh)
Eureka! I've got it!