This hotel is cheap And the pillows stink And there's not a single thing To say it's Christmas Eve Oh Saint Nicholas I know I ain't in your list But if you're listening I need a bus ticket I came through Montreal I lost a lot of dough Could find no honest job So I did some other ones Got into trouble and I had to run or suffer And then a long road Into a long December Over the water and Over the border and Over the open land To this Ramada Inn No overbooking here No sort of holy birth No miracles occurring No not a creature stirring Oh Saint Stephen Where is your feast when I When I so sorely need it When I've been hardly eating But I'd give my food and drink To see my home again To see my mother's hand Against her apron edge Oh Oh Oh Oh Saint Christopher Send me a Christian word Send me a southern wind Oh send me up to my kin Hear the boys singing Through their drunken grinning Oh Jesus, Joseph, Mary I hear their voices carry Carry me home Home Home Can any saints hear me? Is there any angel near me? If you won't lift me up Then would you send my love Back to my home Back to my only shelter We're in the awful weather I will be warm and welcome Back to my home Home Home...