There's nothing you will find but sleet,
and pain that wears your countenance.
Don't watch the mirrors as they dance.
Christmas bells, they toll like death,
don't listen to their ringing.
Find a place of life and love,
with yuletide carols singing.
Little girl, don't haunt the streets.
There's nothing you will find in sleet —
not heartbeats lost, just straying tears,
no hidden truths, just buried fears.
Seek out instead the happy years
of future friends at Christmas.