Tekster: Trans Siberian Orchestra. The Christmas Attic. Find Our Way Home.

He believed in the things that he always thought he knew
And had done all the things that he always wanted to do
Collecting each thing, reflecting his worth
But now he pondered, how he had wandered this earth

For we all seem to give our lives away
Searching for things that we think we must own
Until on this evening when the year is leaving
We all try to find our way home

He had time or at least then he always thought he did
And mistakes, well he thought that time always would forgive
Each transgression for his intentions, forgetting
Years he squandered on things he now was regretting

For we all seem to give our lives away
Searching for things that we think we must own
Until on this evening when the year is leaving
We all try to find our way home

For we all seem to give our lives away
Searching for things that we think we must own
But on this evening when the year is leaving
I think I would be alright if on this Christmas night
I could just find my way home