The ghost wants something that won't be under the tree this Christmas (or ever).
Dracula can only be Dracula.
Disappointment shouldn't be a surprise, but it is (of course).
Wrap it up in a bow and take a picture for a remembrance.
This moment is a keepsake.

What you're waiting for isn't here anymore.
It never was.

i've looked at love from both sides now,
from give and take, and still somehow
it's love's illusions i recall.
i really don't know love at all.