| Oh, there’s nothing quite like Christmas in the county
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| The simple joy of family by the fire
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| And Carols ringing out across the valley
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| The neighbors that make up the village choir
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| Oh, the joy of Christmas in the country
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| The love and warmth of gentle memories
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| And going back to a simple old love story
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| It’s waiting in the country just for me
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| The Smell of fudge and apples from the kitchen
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| The bubble lights that flicker on the tree
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| Whispered sounds of secrets from the children
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| Embrace and call back home the likes of me
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| There’s nothing quite like Christmas in the county
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| The silent snow is falling on the vine
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| The children press their noses to the window
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| As winter turns to magic, me, oh, my!
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| That’s the joy of Christmas in the country
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| The love and warmth of gentle memories
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| And going back to a simple old love story
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| It’s waiting in the country just for me
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| Dad’s response as he stands beside the Bible
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| It falls from habit, open to Luke chapter two
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| And none of us will ever tire of hearing
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| «Now children here is how God came to you»
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| «There was in that same country shepherds watching
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| They watch at night upon a lonely hill»
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| And through his well worn voice he tells the story
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| Of how God loved us once and loves us still
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| Oh, the joy of Christmas in the country
|
| The love and warmth of gentle memories
|
| And going back to the simple old love story
|
| It’s waiting in the country just for me
|
| It’s waiting in the country just for me |