The wood is burning in their fire,
Whilst the snowflakes fall outside,
I always thought Christmas was a liar,
Summer is an easier ride.

The streets are cold and damp,
The air is ever so thin,
But my heart always seems to have a cramp,
No matter what situation I’m in.

My teeth chatter,
My mind is bare,
I might win over a few pennies,
Though that is very rare.

Steam climbs out of chimneys,
And the sky is full of stars,
Everyone fortunate celebrates,
But they never think about those who aren’t.