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The joy of the holiday`s
On window pane's, the icy frost leaves feathered patten's,
crissed and crossed, but in our house the christmas tree is decorated
with tiny dots of coloured light.
So bring the festive song's that are familiar and slow,
playing softly on the radio, mixed with the crack of
the fire and chime of family gossip.
Be warned, the sheapard approches for his flock,
after all not all sheep are reared for wool.
As darkness covers the once blue skies that spreads fear world wide,
this day comes for us all: man or mer.
The old and young are all equal in it's gaze - for all men are born will die
as equals.
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