| Once in Royal David’s City stood a lowly cattle shed,
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| where a mother laid her baby.
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| You’d do well to remember the things He later said.
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| When you’re stuffing yourselves at the Christmas parties,
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| you’ll laugh when I tell you to take a running jump.
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| You’re missing the point I’m sure does not need making;
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| that Christmas spirit is not what you drink.
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| So how can you laugh when your own mother’s hungry
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| and how can you smile when the reasons for smiling are wrong?
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| And if I messed up your thoughtless pleasures,
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| remember, if you wish, this is just a Christmas song.
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| Hey, Santa… pass us that bottle, will you? |