1. |
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I’m dreaming of a white Christmas
Just like the ones I used to know
Where the tree tops glisten and children listen
To hear sleigh bells in the snow
I’m dreaming of a white Christmas
With every Christmas card I write
May your days be merry and bright
And may all your Christmases be
white
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2. |
Christmas Lights
03:57
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Tis a season for TV, sitting on couches, the houses are empty
Tis a season for turtlenecks, itchy, and red, and festive
Tis a season for walking, smoking, and talking, and smiling
Tis a season for frantic, shoppers bustle busy and disenchanted
Tis a season for cold drinks, just you at the table
And too thick, hot chocolate
In plastic mugs, and lost loves, on Christmas cable
And this is not just a concept
And institution of “give and get”
Harbour hatred underneath your face scarf
While the family passes down the serviettes
Tis a season of darkness, days are short and hopeless
Tis a season of Christmas lights, that all may see was born Jesus Christ
(la, la, la)
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3. |
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(snow, snow, snow, snow)
Christmas is that kind of season, when you wish you were home
Warm by the fire with something to believe in, something to give you hope
You know it can seem like, something empty
A lot of noise a lot of light and not much feeling
But all this must have echoed out from somewhere, perhaps a village in the sand
Perhaps not in the month of December, or in a winter wonderland
But if you look at, this all clearly
You’ll see it doesn’t make a difference
If you’re a Christian, or not religious, if this is a holiday, or if its Christmas
Cause my God came, all the same, to collapse under my sin and then get back up again
And when I get to heaven He’ll look in my eyes and say: “Son, you weren’t good enough, but I loved you anyway”
So if you think you’re sick of Christmas, with your presents all unwrapped and your egg nog has run out
Just thank God that’s not what this is all about
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4. |
Tinsel Christmas
01:57
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Is there room this year under your tree for the love and the hope and the joy and peace?
Do your candlelit faces shine with Christmas warmth? Are you reaching for the handle on your Grandma’s front door?
And Christmas time can sometimes feel like a thoughtless motion
When tinsel shine, and coloured lights will capture your attention
But the angels sang the praises, of a grace that still amazes
And born is the king of whom carollers sing, whose birth is the reason for these glad tidings
Merry Christmas
To you
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5. |
Snow (Is Ugly)
05:14
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(and softly falling) [sung from outside through the balcony window of my 3rd floor walk up in Verdun, Montreal, in the middle of a snowstorm]
So now the snow’s falling, thicker than flour
To close you in and muffle your voice, till everything else goes sour
Watching the grass wither, before your lonely eyes
It’s last breaths choke as airways close from soft white herbicide
And soon the world will be covered, and you feel so alone
Your hazel eyes are turning white, reflecting off the snow
The trees are slowly dying, turning to rot inside
It’s changing the filter from technicolor, to the old days of black and white
And softly falling
A speck of life in the white out, it’s nearly, 30 below
All the sounds of no one but you around, in the middle of the snow
Your jacket’s in the closet, your scarfs in the window sill
Out in the snow, in the cold meadow, you’re taking your sleeping pills
And softly falling
When I was younger, I purified the snow
A coffee filter in the westcoast winter, on my Oma’s stove
That day I knew for sure, that I had been deceived
All the things it hides all the dirt inside,
Snow is Ugly
And softly falling
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6. |
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In his dream, the sky was clear, the uniforms were pressed and crisp
In those days war was still a noble escape, so he went down to recruitment and chose to enlist
Three months he trained, at Valcartier, placed a gun in his hand and said “you fight for the king”
It was 1914 and his mind was still green without the slightest idea of what this war would bring
And time passes slowly when you’re solid with fear, and there’s no way out no way away from here
Spending long nights in a trench full of mud and disease, for the love of a country and the pursuit of peace
Take me out, this is not what I was looking for
Take me out, this is hell, this is pain, this is war
And I have been mistaken
Ypres in the mud, the wind in his face, “Over top the boys you’re tougher than nails”
Into a green fog, he ran for his life, gritting his teeth he screamed a cry and inhale
And time passes slowly as your lungs fill with blood
A shocked look on your face face down in the mud
And shiny copper buttons on a torn grey uniform
Turning green from the chlorine as the clear grey sky is torn in two
Take me out, this is not what I was looking for
Take me out, this is hell, this is pain, this is war
And I have been mistaken
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7. |
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Silent Night, Holy Night
All is calm, all is right
Received as a bastard
From a lineage of hookers and kings
The terrible smell, of the stable or cave
All the less beautiful things
Were there sheep and cattle, shepherds and angels?
Wandering towards a star of wonder
Three wise men, or fifteen
Tell me honestly, does it matter?
Silent Night, Holy Night
All is calm, all is right
Round yon virgin, mother and child
Holy infant so tender and mild
Tell me why do the holidays hurt?
You go home to a family and they treat you like dirt
Stuck to tradition like a ball to a chain
So you stiffen your shoulders and step on the plane
The irony kicks you square in the face
Of a Silent Night, Holy Night
When all is calm, and all is right
I think Christmas is a time, when people lose their faith
They see Martha Stewart’s stuffing, on Betty Crocker’s plates
The contrast is cruel and clear with their failures and sins
And the Christmas perfection going on in the Inn
They say:
“Who is this God that’s supposed to be able?”
“Well that’s Him in the stable, with Shit for a cradle”
About thirty years later, outside Jerusalem
He’s the King of the Jews but the scorn of all men
Naked and bloody on a cross in His shame
Leaving this world just the way that He came
And for that very reason, I can finally believe
Though the world outside’s crumbling
Tonight will be…
A Silent Night, a Holy Night
All is calm, all is right
Sleep in heavenly peace; I can sleep in heavenly peace
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Cod Sent Flute Vancouver, British Columbia
Cod Sent Flute has been writing songs for a while now. He likes to think they sound like backyards, cold nights, and campfires. Those are his favorite shows.
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