Snow was falling from the grey clouds on a December's day
A pale face stares out the window, his gaze seems so far away
Just another day in the three kings pub for him
Whilst the scouts collect money for charity outside carol singing
He thinks of his childhood and his own Christmas memories
Stories well forgotten these days, like old fables in others histories
The office parties at the back of the pub get louder and louder
There's always one that has too much to drink and ends up in the gutter
He was there once, office, party, gutter,
Actually ‘he smirks to himself' in that order
A hand touches his shoulder, been ages since he had a real touch
"Another one for the road Christian? Or have you had enough?"
"ok Joseph, I'll have another brandy please, and get one for yourself"
He looks away as his friend the barman goes and gets his drink from the shelf
Mary the barmaid is looking beautiful tonight, he allows himself a smile
Why not, there's always room at the inn, for those who stay a while
The inn gets more packed as all flock to see the end of a year
And friends meet old friends getting drunk in a Christmas cheer
And as the jukebox plays another Christmas melody
He stares out the window, knowing that this is his nativity.
