| Well I walked to town in the pouring rain
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| Paid my fare and I rode that train
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| To the station under the avenue
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| Hit the air at the stroke of noon
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| At the cross streets where I staked my claim
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| I played in tune with the winter rain
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| Collecting dimes and dollar bills
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| While the noisy traffic played the fills
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| And it’s Christmas time in the city
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| When the air is filled with cheer
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| And the storefronts look this pretty only once a year
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| Well the vendors huddled and the taxis honked
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| As I played for change beneath the neon clock
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| Was dressed up looking like a Christmas tree
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| Blinking down on that busy street
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| When the crowd thinned out and the rain had quit
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| And my fingers felt cold and stiff
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| I took their money and I closed my case
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| And I headed back towards home again
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| And it’s Christmas time in the city
|
| When the air is filled with cheer
|
| And the storefronts look this pretty only once a year
|
| As I walked back to the subway stairs
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| I had twenty eight dollars in change for fare
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| There was an old bag lady with an outstretched hand
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| And a small Salvation Army band
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| Playing Angels We Have Heard on High
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| The First Noel and O Holy Night
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| I folded up one dollar bill
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| And I tucked it down into the till
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| And it’s Christmas time in the city
|
| When the air is filled with cheer
|
| And the storefronts look this pretty only once a year
|
| And it’s Christmas time in the city
|
| When the air is filled with cheer
|
| And the storefronts look this pretty only once a year
|
| And it’s Christmas time in the city |