Crimson Season
Unknown
Alma Blair·3:49
3:49
Crimson Season
Unknown
Creator: Alma BlairRelease Date: December 21, 2025
Lyrics
🖤 A whimsical chapter from my holiday EP 🖤
Not everyone dreams in white.
If you feel it, you’re already in it:
🖤 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙛𝙮: https://open.spotify.com/artist/2VCdgYo4f5iSIcLouGV89j
🖤 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙏𝙪𝙗𝙚: https://www.youtube.com/@AlmaBlairDFP
🖤 𝙏𝙞𝙠𝙏𝙤𝙠: https://www.tiktok.com/@almadfp
- 𝙖𝙡𝙢𝙖 🖤 𝙗𝙡𝙖𝙞𝙧 -
⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺
The calendar turned with a hiss and a flare,
snow kissed the ground like it knew I'd be there.
I don't wait for bells or sleighs to ring
I start the season when I sing.
They lit the tree, I lit the match,
wrapped the world in velvet ash
He whispered peace, I breathed in flame,
and wore the smoke like it knew my name.
They deck the halls in tinsel lies
I thread my truth through silent nights.
Crimson kisses, velvet crime,
I make cold look like it’s mine.
They want angels, sweet and light
but I show up and spark the night.
Wrap your rules in silver bows,
I’ll still wear red like no one knows.
Call it sin or call it reason
I am the start. I am the season.
He offered vows in candy cane,
all sugar, none of it sane.
Said, “Be good,” I said, “Define,”
and sipped my truth like mulled red wine.
While they rehearsed their hymns and grace,
I left a lipstick kiss on fate.
The snowstorm bowed, the wind took sides
even winter loves a girl who rides.
If silence counts as holiday cheer,
I’ll toast too loud, then disappear.
Crimson kisses, velvet crime,
I make cold look like it’s mine.
They want angels, sweet and light
but I show up and spark the night.
Wrap your rules in silver bows,
I’ll still wear red like no one knows.
Call it sin or call it reason
I am the start. I am the season.
I don’t hang stockings, I stitch my name
in thread that sparks and spells unclaimed.
You’ll find no penance on my tree
just truth and scent of evergreen.
And if I’m wrong for how I shine,
then baby, wrong feels close to divine.
Crimson kisses, velvet crime,
I make cold look like it’s mine.
They want angels, sweet and light
but I show up and spark the night.
Wrap your rules in silver bows,
I’ll still wear red like no one knows.
Call it myth or call it treason
I was made for crimson season.
It’s not your white December dream
I am the fire beneath the gleam.
It’s a crimson season.
Not everyone dreams in white.
If you feel it, you’re already in it:
🖤 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙛𝙮: https://open.spotify.com/artist/2VCdgYo4f5iSIcLouGV89j
🖤 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙏𝙪𝙗𝙚: https://www.youtube.com/@AlmaBlairDFP
🖤 𝙏𝙞𝙠𝙏𝙤𝙠: https://www.tiktok.com/@almadfp
- 𝙖𝙡𝙢𝙖 🖤 𝙗𝙡𝙖𝙞𝙧 -
⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺⎺
The calendar turned with a hiss and a flare,
snow kissed the ground like it knew I'd be there.
I don't wait for bells or sleighs to ring
I start the season when I sing.
They lit the tree, I lit the match,
wrapped the world in velvet ash
He whispered peace, I breathed in flame,
and wore the smoke like it knew my name.
They deck the halls in tinsel lies
I thread my truth through silent nights.
Crimson kisses, velvet crime,
I make cold look like it’s mine.
They want angels, sweet and light
but I show up and spark the night.
Wrap your rules in silver bows,
I’ll still wear red like no one knows.
Call it sin or call it reason
I am the start. I am the season.
He offered vows in candy cane,
all sugar, none of it sane.
Said, “Be good,” I said, “Define,”
and sipped my truth like mulled red wine.
While they rehearsed their hymns and grace,
I left a lipstick kiss on fate.
The snowstorm bowed, the wind took sides
even winter loves a girl who rides.
If silence counts as holiday cheer,
I’ll toast too loud, then disappear.
Crimson kisses, velvet crime,
I make cold look like it’s mine.
They want angels, sweet and light
but I show up and spark the night.
Wrap your rules in silver bows,
I’ll still wear red like no one knows.
Call it sin or call it reason
I am the start. I am the season.
I don’t hang stockings, I stitch my name
in thread that sparks and spells unclaimed.
You’ll find no penance on my tree
just truth and scent of evergreen.
And if I’m wrong for how I shine,
then baby, wrong feels close to divine.
Crimson kisses, velvet crime,
I make cold look like it’s mine.
They want angels, sweet and light
but I show up and spark the night.
Wrap your rules in silver bows,
I’ll still wear red like no one knows.
Call it myth or call it treason
I was made for crimson season.
It’s not your white December dream
I am the fire beneath the gleam.
It’s a crimson season.