A hole in my stocking
A hole in my shoe
Please can you spare a dollar of two
If you haven't a dollar
A quarter will do
And if you haven't a quarter
May God bless you
Lined up at the trough
Christmas for the poor
The down and the out
The beasts of burden
The angel of doubt
He was out on the corner
Famished for sure
Tired of the hustle
Looking out for the cure
No food in our belly
No change for the bus
No, Father Christmas
Didn't give a damn about us
Down at the mission
Dressed up for the feast
In these rags of beauty
She was trying at least
A hole in my stocking
A hole in my shoe
Please can you spare a dollar of two
If you haven't a dollar
A quarter will do
And if you haven't a quarter
May God bless you
Politicians are stirring
All those gifts but so bored
Tearing all through the wrapping
In the name of the lord
A feast for the poor
Some reprieve form the cold
In the year of austerity
In a kingdom of gold
Down at the mission
Father Christmas appeared
With a tubercular cough
With a tubercular cough
But it was hard not to smile
With a belly that full
A fat goose and pudding
A warm a bed in hall
A hole in my stocking
A hole in my shoe
Please can you spare a dollar of two
If you haven't a dollar
A half dollar will do
And if you haven't a half dollar
May God bless you
Christmas in the year of austerity
Next year son, Next year