| Christmas Morning |
|---|
| The girl |
| At the grocery |
| She’s pretty |
| And seems nice |
| But she looks |
| Right through me |
| With eyes |
| Cold as ice |
| She never answers |
| When I ask |
| Her name |
| She only says |
| I should have |
| A great day |
| But hey |
| What could |
| She mean by that |
| Perhaps |
| I’m the fool |
| She takes me for |
| Not anything more |
| I guess |
| It’s the season |
| The time |
| Of the year |
| When people |
| They’re happy |
| And full |
| Of good cheer |
| Well |
| They’ll wish you |
| And kiss you |
| And wish you again |
| And they’ll tell you |
| It’s peace and good |
| Will to all men |
| But hey what could |
| They mean by that |
| Perhaps |
| I’m the fool |
| They take me for |
| Not anything more |
| We stood |
| At the altar |
| And you held my hand |
| And everyone watched |
| As the preacher |
| He asked |
| Will you take him |
| And love him |
| For bad |
| And for good |
| You looked at me |
| Then you told him |
| You would |
| But hey |
| What did you |
| Mean by that |
| Perhaps |
| I’m the fool |
| You take me for |
| Not anything more |
| Now each |
| Christmas morning |
| I sit in my chair |
| And I look up |
| At the angels |
| That float |
| Through the air |
| Some look down |
| Upon me |
| Some come |
| To my side |
| And they tell me |
| That Jesus |
| He said to say hi |
