Golden leaves are falling down from the old tree while the blackbirds are landing on the field, beside the sea the singing birds had left this country weeks ago its cold outside I turn the heater on but there are some people in this country without a bed and a home they are freezing, they are begging on the streets alone on our way to the church we won't see their hungry eyes we forget their reaching hands while we pray to jesus christ beside a plastic christmas tree a happy child gets a new coat while the snow forms a shroad on a cold body down the road
