What's You're Name Again? Eh, Waldo, you say?

there's this aching inside of me that won't stop

"Where are you," I cry.

I've looked everywhere...at every turn there are Elvis impersinators trying to convince me that they're you.

I'd like to shove the fake Santas down the stairs, and have Rudolph take me to your favorite hiding place. I'd like to be there with you. Holding your hand.

But damnit, Rudolph turns out to be a fraud too...is everything fake? Is everyone out for just themselves? Where are you emo boy....I just want to take care of you.

But nothing feels real anymore and I'm wondering...