Snow hisses softly through bare branches,
No one is there to hear the hissing.
As the snow falls, Christmas time is coming.
Gloves hand unused from their hooks,
Dangling in limp and lifeless bunches.
Snow hisses softly through bare branches.
Animals creep quietly about looking to eat,
Leaving tracks that snow quickly fills.
As the snow falls, Christmas time is coming.
Wood waits to be made into a merry fire,
Stacked all alone in the corner of the room.
Snow hisses softly through bare branches.
Stockings line the fireplace, bare of all,
Except a plate of cookies and a glass of milk.
As the snow falls, Christmas time is coming.
Expectation runs through your bones,
As children sleep the night away,
Snow hisses softly through bare branches.
As the snow falls, Christmas time is coming.