Candles lit up Tannenbaum.
Stille Nacht called up the dawn.
The khaki army felt reborn
on a frozen morn in ’14.
When boys walked out into No Man’s Land,
exchanging smokes and offering their hands.
Songs were sang on the blasted land
on that charmed day in ’14.
And many’s a tale’s been woven and spun,
how they played football and left their guns,
without a thought or a care who lost or won—
they would fight no more at Christmas.
Well, the news came fast to the high command.
The generals couldn’t begin to understand
the fraternity of the common man
who all believed in Christmas.
And many’s a tale’s been woven and spun,
how they played football and left their guns,
without a thought or a care who lost or won—
they would fight no more at Christmas.
Fight no more at Christmas.
Fight no war at Christmas.
Jimme O’Neill