Homeless Wassail

Words and Music © Ian Robb 1996

 

"Wassail, wassail all over the town

Our cup is white and our ale is brown"

But huddled on this iron grate

We poor and hungry curse our fate

 

No wassail bowl for such as these

No turkey scraps, no ale nor cheese

This Christmas eve our hearts' desire

Is a bottle of gin and a trashcan 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

 

Oh, where is he, that holy child

Once born of Mary, meek and mild?

And whither peace, goodwill to men

Now and for evermore, amen?

 

All ye who dine with face aglow

In Reginensi atrio

Pray pause awhile at pleasure's door

And sup some sorrow with the poor      

 

"Wassail, wassail all over the town

Our cup is white and our ale is brown"

This cold and hunger, pain and care

Sweet Jesus Christ, it's hard to bear!