The wind is cold, the ground is white
And everything within my sight
Is grim and bleak...no piney trees
Are whispering in a Southern breeze
Yet though I find the land so bare
There's something in this winter air
A freshness, crisp and clean and new
So different from past Christmas views
Where Santa rode on dolphin backs
And beach sand covered reindeer tracks
Surfboards, not sleds were children's dreams
A three hulled Cat was just the thing!
Just what the hell are sugarplums?
We dreamed of dark Jamaican Rhum
While steel drums, with an island beat
Played "Jingle Bells" on every street
Yet, from my window I can see
How things are really meant to be
In this land of winter storms
Where fires are to keep you warm
And I find strange beauty in the sight
Though the wind is cold and the ground is white
