Lights are flashing, people are dashing,
it's so cold out it would kill a snowman,
Cash register's ringing, Caroler's singing,
and a man digs through a trash can.
Everyone's shopping, nobody's stopping,
as he holds out the paper cup he's found,
With holiday cheer, filling the air,
he begs from his seat on the cold ground.
Music is playing, everyone's saying,
Merry Christmas and oh yes Happy New Year,
Yet all step around, the man on the ground,
pretending there's no one to see there.
Hungry and cold, broken and old,
With a beard and all dirty they think he's strange,
Their filled with detest, by his simple request,
can you please help me out with some spare change.
No one would dare, to venture near,
the old man with change to be given,
All stepped aside, as he walked with no pride,
to the alley with the box that he lives in.
On the way there, he happened hear,
these words from the mouth of a small child,
Look! Santa Claus!, which made him pause,
then he turned and he winked and he smiled.
His eyes twinkled bright, on that cold winters night,
when he climbed in his box from the storm,
As he laid down his head, on his newspaper bed,
the words of that child kept him warm.
And the very next day, when they brushed away,
the snow from the box where he lied,
They all thought it strange, he'd have cup fill of change,
and a smile on his face when he died.
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