Ian Robb's HOMELESS WASSAIL is brilliant: Wassail, wassail all over the town Our cup is white and our ale is brown But huddled 'round this iron grate We poor and hungry curse our fate CHORUS: No wassail bowl for such as these No turkey scraps, no ale nor cheese It's Christmas Eve, our heart's desire Is a bottle of gin and a trash can fire Good Christian, mind as home you go With dreams of holly and mistletoe That the holly bears a dreadful thorn For those who wake to a frozen dawn CHORUS Oh where is he, that holy child Once born of Mary meek and mild And whither peace good will to men Now and forever more, amen CHORUS All ye that dine with face aglow In reginensi atrio Pray pause a while at pleasure's door And sup some sorrow with the poor CHORUS Wassail, wassail all over the town Our cup and our ale is brown This cold hunger, pain and care Sweet Jesus Christ, it's hard to bear
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