Where was the snow that Christmas night,
the jingle bells, the horse-drawn sleigh,
the gifts piled high to child's delight,
the boughs of holly on display?

When Luke wrote of sweet Jesus' birth,
where was the snow that Christmas night,
the jolly Santa filled with mirth,
the tapered candles burning bright?

In my mind's eye I see the sight,
a humble manger, clean but spare --
where was the snow that Christmas night?
Why weren't ten lords a-leaping there?

As Mary crooned a lullaby
and love made Joseph's heart ignite,
they had no cause to wonder why,
where was the snow that Christmas night.