Christmas Eve excitement mounts and wonder fills his eyes.
His little heart is pounding as he looks up to the skies.
Perhaps he'd hear the sleighbells ring or see a reindeers' hoof,
And then he'd know for certain what was God's honest truth.
There really must be Santa 'cause I've seen him in the shops.
And every Christmas party into our school he drops.
But the older boys had told him, and they were quite aloof.
There's no such person - don't you know - and that's God's honest truth.
But he'd always turn to mummy to seek for her advice,
And she didn't want to hurt him, so she thought up in a trice.
It's just a spirit in your mind and it goes away with youth.
It's the only answer I can give and that's God's honest truth.
Well, maybe that's the answer, but the myth lives on for ever.
Perhaps we ought to stop the tales and cut commercial fever.
But think before you broadcast that Santa's just a spoof,
You get more gifts if you believe and that's God's honest truth.

* * * * * * * * * * * *
It's Christmas, It's Christmas, Christmas in New York.
Christmas, Christmas, they're happy Christmas folk.

* * * * * * * * * * * *
Carols singing, bells are ringing, buskers playing festive tune.
Santas busy, kids are fizzy, Christmas Eve the afternoon.
No more pausing, stores are closing, spending money's almost done.
Shop lights dimmer, night lights shimmer, now's the time for having fun.

All written by

Dave Topping