Morning on the street corner, the city a clamoring stir,
Trolley cars and taxi cabs in a winding blur.
Holidays and snowflakes, people crowding everywhere,
Ring ring…. the shopkeepers bell, peddling their wares.
There! the canty Yankee boy shouts the headline news,
Bedlam in the Bowery, Londonderry blues.
Ships adrift, the lost beach, War! - carry the day,
Soldiers pry the battle field, dying all the way.
I hear a distantsaxophone, playing a sweet refrain,
It's winding down the avenue, carrying a pain...
A melody for lovers, a melody for tears,
A lament for fallen brothers, who'll never see the years.
Then what of the promise? an aged saviors birth,
Shout it from the rooftops in every hymn and verse,
Whisper it into the wind, let it sail away,
Bring the hope of a manger, with love - on Christmas day.
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