Could your kisses keep me warm in the night?
Could I feel safe with your arms holding tight?
The snow is coming, almost Christmas, so cold.
Will there a be world for us? Will we grow old?
A fancy neighborhood once, now down at heel.
A Victorian split up, we hear church bells peal.
We could pretend it’s just us, this room a world.
But it the war and the fires we’ll still be hurled.
We’ll have Christmas, candied lights in the dark,
against the French Windows, against snow stark.
Little presents, too show we care, share the days,
we believe in Jesus, and we’ll be his bright rays.
Sitting by the tree, by the kerosene heater, just us.
The war and the fires, refusal to act, learn, ever thus.
I love you, you love me, that is a glory in the dark night.
We kiss, hold on tight, we’ll be faithful, heaven so bright.