A Cup of Kindness Yet

this hotel is cheap and the pillows stink and there’s not a single thing to say its christmas eve oh saint nicholas, i know i ain’t in your list, but if you’re listening, i need a bus ticket i came through montreal, i lost a lot of dough, could find no honest job, so i did some other ones got into trouble, i had to run or suffer, and then a long road into a long december

over the water and over the border and over the open land to this ramada inn but no overbooking here, no sort of holy birth, no miracles occurring, no not a creature stirring oh saint stephen, where is your feast when i, when i so sorely need it? when i haven’t hardly eaten? but i’d give my food and drink to see my home again, to see my mother’s hand against her apron edge

oh oh saint christopher, send me a christian word, send me a southern wind, oh send me up to my kin hear the b’ys singing, through their drunken grinning, of jesus, joseph, mary – i hear their voices carry carry me home

can any saints hear me? is there any angel near me? if you won’t lift me up then would you send my love? back to my home? back to my only shelter? where in the awful weather i will be warm and welcome back to my home

[traditional carol, arranged by tim]

o come o come emmanuel and ransom captive israel that mourns in lowly exile here until the son of god appear

rejoice! rejoice! emmanuel shall come to thee o israel.

o come thou rod of jesse, free thine own from satan’s tyranny from the depths of hell thy people save and give them victory o’er the grave.

rejoice! rejoice!

o come thou dayspring, come and cheer our spirits by thine advent here and drive away the shades of night pierce the clouds and bring us light

rejoice! rejoice!

the summer’s gone you spend half your night off on the phone pacing around yer gonna wear a rut trying to make her understand what you do not

then you hang up and it’s so quiet and you look out into the cold night you’re getting older but you still never learn it’s like you’re frozen in a frozen world

and then you feel it the stillness moves it’s like a tiny voice in a silent room

the first snow the first snow, it’s so slow the first snow,

then you know it a thing you’ve never known that you won’t outgrow it but you’ll move along and into your bed to lie alone but you’ll be fine dreaming of the first snow

the first snow the first snow feel it float like the first snow

lend me a walking stick and i’ll lean on it and i’ll walk on out through the snowbound yard past the neighbours on the lawn, drinking last year out i’ll leave this town, cut the year off clean

cauterized by leaving, sick and tired of living last year

roll out the tarmac and baptize the aircraft ‘escape and loss’ and push me off

the cold can bleach us out and freeze our doubt so all that you knew becomes muffled and mute

i’m done with this all this standing stiff when i move my mouth only snow comes out

euthanized by whiteness but i’ll arise, despite this last year

so roll out the tarmac and baptize the aircraft ‘escape and loss’ and push me off

should old acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind? should old acquaintance be forgot, and old lang syne?

for auld lang syne, my dear, for auld lang syne, we’ll take a cup of kindness yet, for auld lang syne.