At Christmastime each year I sit and shed a tear
For places, folks, and times I used to know .
I have food and drink aplenty, but I miss my mother dear
And I miss those childhood days of long ago.
As I watch the children play with their toys
on Christmas Day
And hear again the carols from old Bing.
I bend my head and pray, and I thank God for this day
But I really wish I’d heard my brother sing.
He died while I was gone from the place where
I was born
In my memory he is still a little boy.
I’ve been told his voice was sweeter than the nightingale at dawn
And gave his friends and family untold joy.
I will think of him this Christmas, and of
Christmas Days of yore
Of family and friends I left behind.
So if you are one of those, remember, rich or poor
At Christmas, you are always on my mind.