I Won't Be Home For Christmas
by Rick Moore
I won't be home for Christmas
Christmas for home be won't I
I won't be home for Christmas
Silent night
the world is screwed down tight
and none of the buses are leaving town
Vandalized phones
no use calling home
the ticket window shuts down
Fallen though time
the wind it howls and whines
and the snow piles high upon the ground
Jesus slept here
among the rubble and the tears
but he's not making a sound
The angels are high as they stroll stroll and strut by
Joyfully singing over your pain