• The winter wight snow flakes
    come down from the sky
    waiting for Santa with one open eye.

    hearing the bells on the cold hose rooftop
    hoping to see him with lafter and joy
    knowing the toy you asked for
    is with him inside his big winter sac.

    standing by the fire place
    with your old little bear hoping to here the
    sound that he makes.

    ho ho ho you here outside
    you fall wright asleep and you wake up the next day
    without seeing Santa.