| It’s Christmas Eve, Babe,
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| In the drunk tank.
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| An old man said to me, «Won't see another one.»
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| And then he sang a song,
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| 'The Rare Old Mountain Dew'.
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| I turned my face away
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| And dreamed about you.
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| Got on a lucky one,
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| Came in eighteen to one.
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| I had a feeling
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| That year’s for me and you.
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| Said 'Happy Christmas,
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| I love you baby.
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| I can see a better time
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| When all our dreams come true.'
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| They’ve got cars big as bars,
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| They’ve got rivers of gold.
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| But the wind goes right through you,
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| Its no place for the old.
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| When I first took your hand,
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| All your fingers were blue
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| But I promised you Broadway was waiting for you.
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| I was handsome,
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| You were pretty;
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| Queen of New York City.
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| When the band finished playing,
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| They howled out for more.
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| Sinatra was swinging,
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| All the drunks they were singing,
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| And we kissed on the corner
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| Then danced through the night.
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| And the boys of the NYPD choir
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| Were singing Galway Bay.
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| And the bells were ringing out
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| For Christmas Day.
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| The apartment was cluttered,
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| And it smelled like the gutter
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| Where my sad broken promises
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| Lay with the trash.
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| Every cold dreary night,
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| We’d end up in a fight
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| And I’d pray, as you’d yell,
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| That a train’d rattle past.
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| And the boys of the NYPD choir
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| Still singing Galway Bay.
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| And the bells were ringing out
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| Christmas Day.
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| I could have been someone
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| You said «So could anyone,»
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| And that I took your dreams from you
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| When first you found me.
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| But I kept them with me, Babe,
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| I put them with my own.
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| I cant make it all alone,
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| I built my dreams around you.
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| It’s Christmas Eve again, in the drunk tank.
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| I’m an old man now, I won’t see another one.
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| So I’ll a sing a song, and sleep when I am through
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| And dream of another life, where all our dreams came true. |