Christmas Eve, 1943 - Tom McRae, Tom McRae & the Standing Band

Christmas Eve, 1943

Black crow at my window pane

Hammers out his refrain

An omen of dark skies

Coming of hard times

Coming of rain

And I light fire each night

Your letters, they burn so bright

In copper and blue flame

Illuminate your name

In their dying light

So Lord if you’re listening

On this Christmas Eve

Would you carry a spark Lord

To my baby for me

A dress made from my parachute

We married for love so true

And you were my darling

And I was free falling

Down into you

But time wears a hole Lord

In young lovers hearts

And through it I fell Lord

Fell long and fell hard

Lord if you’re listening

On this Christmas Eve

Would you tell her you forgive me

Tell her I’m on my knees

The moon had a ragged edge

I pulled her close to my chest

And from her cold lips

I stole one last kiss

I squeezed one last breath

So Lord if you’re listening

On this Christmas Eve

Would you tell my sweet baby

I’m on my way

And if you send me to hell Lord

Tell her all that I’ve said

One last shot of whisky

One last shot of lead

And if you send me to hell Lord

Tell her all that I’ve said

One last shot of whisky

One last shot of lead