Christmas of '92 (Remastered)

Mmm... mmm... In a Little house on Rue Almaine, The snow falls soft, like whispered pain. The stockings hung with faded thread, And memories dance where laughter’s led. Grandma's eyes, a sea of blue, Reflect the heartache she’s been through. With empty cupboards, no feast in sight, Just echoes of joy from Christmas past nights. Oh, Christmas of ’92, with a heart worn thin, No food in the cupboard, but the love pours in. Though the tree stands bare, and the sky’s all gray, Her spirit shines bright, come what may. With three little faces, looking up so wide, She hides her sorrow, and she swallows her pride. Their laughter is sweet, like the jingle of bells, But she knows in her heart, all her stories she tells. Oh, Christmas of ’92, with a heart worn thin, No presents to wrap, but the love pours in. Though the cold creeps inside, and the world feels blue, But she knows in her heart, all her stories she tells. The weight of the world, it sits on her soul Like a storm cloud, threatening to take control Her heart's a weary traveler, lost in the night Searching for a beacon, a glimmer of light Then a knock on the door, and her heart skips a beat, Carolers gather, with their voices so sweet, They bring little gifts, wrapped in ribbons of hope, Reminding her softly, there’s always a rope. They sing of the past, and the joys it can bring, Of the love that’s eternal, with each song they sing. As their laughter fills the room, and the candles glow bright, She knows in this moment, everything feels right. Oh, Christmas of ’92, with a heart worn thin, This love that surrounds her, is the greatest of gifts. As they gather ‘round, with their faces aglow, She knows deep inside, they’ll forever grow. So here’s to the winter, and the stories we weave, To the love in the struggle, and the joy that we leave. Though the cupboard is bare, and the world feels askew, There’s a hope that will linger, this Christmas of '92.