Twas the night before Christmas
He sat near the street
With his dog in a blanket
Warming his feet

The sidewalk was cold
His windbreaker thin
He longed for a scarf
To cover his chin

He wished that his pants
Were free of the holes
And dreamed of new shoes
Without paper soles

He played his violin
With a melancholy ring
Like the sound of an angel
Which made the heart sing

Where once he had played
To whomever he choose
But his life took a turn
When he fell for the booze

The snowflakes fell softly
And peppered his hair
As he faintly heard carols
In the soft evening air

He counted his money
And wrapped up the dog
Shouldered his knapsack
And walked through the fog

Tomorrow was Christmas
To him one more day
To walk in the streets
With his violin to play