| All the streets are filled with laughter and light
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| And the music of the season
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| And the merchants windows are all bright
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| With the faces of the children
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| And the families hurrying to their homes
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| As the sky darkens and freezes
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| Theyll be gathering around the hearths and tales
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| Giving thanks for all God’s graces
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| And the birth of the rebel Jesus
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| Well they call him by the Prince of Peace
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| And they call him by the Savior
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| And they pray to him upon the seas
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| And in every bold endeavor
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| As they fill his churches with their pride and gold
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| And their faith in him increases
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| But they’ve turned the nature that I worshipped in
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| From a temple to a robber’s den
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| In the words of the rebel Jesus
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| We guard our world with locks and guns
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| And we guard our fine possessions
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| And once a year when Christmas comes
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| We give to our relations
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| And perhaps we give a little to the poor
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| If the generosity should seize us
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| But if any one of us should interfere
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| In the business of why they are poor
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| They get the same as the rebel Jesus
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| But please forgive me if I seem
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| To take the tone of judgement
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| For I’ve no wish to come between
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| This day and your enjoyment
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| In this life of hardship and of earthly toil
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| We have need for anything that frees us
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| So I bid you pleasure
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| And I bid you cheer
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| From a heathen and a pagan
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| On the side of the rebel Jesus |