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Christmas Eve, Gracechurch St.
Travelled far, travelled alone
The wind blows hard, the wind blows cold
No place quite like home
The building high, the doorway small
Familiar tale, ages old
Strangers shunned and ignored
Between the City and the Shard
The wind blows cold, the wind blows hard
Careful eyes on a hurrying crowd
The lights sparkle white and gold
Trust is a gift, it can't be found
Peace on earth, goodwill to all
Raised by a real Jekyll and Hyde
You can't be good if you can't be quiet
Comes a point you have to leave
Spare some change this Christmas Eve
Io io io…
Heavy shoulders, heavy feet
The bitter wind, the whirling snow
Halfway down Gracechurch St
The train awaits, an empty home
Sinking boats on a sea of debt
Sickening tightness in his chest
He can't go on here selling his soul
He sees the youth sat by the wall
Oh can you spare some change
Mister can you spare any change
Oh can you spare something please
In the blue glow of a cash machine
Free to use, the humble heart
The kid looks barely seventeen
Folds the notes with a business card
Afraid to take it, can't refuse
Asks the man what he wants to do
'Nothing kid, go buy some gloves
And a better coat perhaps', he shrugs
'Merry Christmas, stay in touch'
Io io io…
Gloria… Hosanna in excelsis
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2. |
Good King Wenceslas
04:37
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Good King Wenceslas
Good King Wenceslas looked out
On the feast of Stephen
When the snow lay round about,
Deep and crisp and even
Brightly shone the moon that night,
Though the frost was cruel
When a poor man came in sight,
Gathering winter fuel
Hither, page, and stand by me.
If thou knowst it telling
Yonder peasant, who is he?
Where and what his dwelling?
Sire, he lives a good league hence
Underneath the mountain
Right against the forest fence
By Saint Agnes fountain
Bring me flesh, and bring me wine.
Bring me pine logs hither
Thou and I will see him dine
When we bear the thither
Page and monarch, forth they went
Onward both together
Through the rude wind's wild lament
And the bitter weather
Sire, the night is darker now
And the wind blows stronger
Fails my heart, I know not how
I can go no longer
Mark my footsteps my good page
Tread thou in them boldly
Thou shalt find the winter's rage
Freeze thy blood less coldly
In his master's step he trod
Where the snow lay dented
Heat was in the very sod
Which the saint had printed
Therefore, Christian folk, be sure
Wealth or rank possessing
Ye who now shall bless the poor
Shall yourselves find blessing
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Mark Northfield Reading, UK
Pianist and singer/songwriter from Berkshire, England. Also founder member of piano trio Cherry Mint Koala. Mark makes eclectic, melodic and slightly melancholic pop/rock, with prominent classical and theatrical influences. Often collaborates with other vocalists drawn from a variety of genres. Somewhat unpigeonholeable. ... more
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