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