How easily.
Holidays are tough, all by yourself not a soul to talk to.
How much I miss my brown eyed buddy, staring at me for his egg in the kitchen.
Not to worry how to fill all those days, 'cause he was there.
He is gone, and so is all the goodwill, from neighbors and so called friends when the holidays are around.
It doesn't really matter if it's Christmas, Easter, Kingsday or liberation day.
When people get consumed by their own, they forget about the lonely.
They don't think about the ones that don't talk to a soul any of those days.
The holidays are the toughest, they're about sharing and caring, but it's the most forgotten for those who are alone.
No invite, no friendly word, no handshake. Just silence.
The holidays are the toughest
