What holy cities are to nomadic tribes - a symbol of race and a bond of union - great books are to the wandering souls of men: they are the Meccas of the mind.
G.E. Woodberry
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Christmas Must Be Tonight
Going down to Bethlehem
To see a little son of man
Lying away in the manger
Praise the prince of peace
Wheels start turning
Fires start burning
Shine a light on the wise men
Journeying from the east
How could a little baby boy
Be bringing down so much joy
Son of a carpenter
Mary carried the light
It must be Christmas
Must be tonight
That's all right
See the shepherds on a hillside
Looking up at the sky
On a cold winter night
They hear the angels sing
In a dream l heard a voice
Said, "Fear not, come rejoice It's the end of the beginning
Praise the new born king"
And just a little baby boy
He's bringing us so much joy
(Son of a carpenter)
Ooh, son of a carpenter
Mary carried the light
Oh, and it must be Christmas
Must be tonight
Son of a carpenter, oh
(Mary carried the light)
Mary carried the light
It must be Christmas
Must be tonight
Oh, and it's all right
Say
And it came to pass
The child was born at last
Happened right before
The star that shines on high
How could a little baby boy
Be bringing down so much joy
Son of a carpenter
Mary carried the light
It must be Christmas
Must be tonight
Son of a carpenter
Mary carried the light
It must be Christmas
Must be tonight
Must be tonight (It must be tonight)
It must be tonight (It must be tonight)
Christmas must be tonight
(It must be tonight)
The son of a carpenter (It must be tonight)
Mary carried the light (It must be tonight)
All right (It must be tonight)
And it's all right
(Mary carried the holy light)
Here we go