Get all 12 Dean Batstone releases available on Bandcamp and save 50%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Dean Batstone - Loveskill, Broken - Dean Batstone, Unbroken - Dean Batstone, Lonely In America - Dean Batstone, No Angel - Dean Batstone, Love That Shine - Dean Batstone, Love Do The Talkin' - Dean Batstone, Sounds Like Blame - Dean Batstone, and 4 more.
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Christmas Through My Baby’s Eyes
Copyright ©1991 words and music by Dean Batstone
I remember as a boy hearing a hundred voices sing together,
Jubilation, celebration, the birth of one small child,
It seems the older that I get, the more removed from all the magic,
’Til in the eyes of children I see the greatest joy of all,
So let’s sing out one more chorus, dance around the glowing fire,
Feel the warmth deep in our hearts burning all year long,
I want to look down on my little girl and see her shine, see her smile,
I want to know, I’ve gotta try, to see Christmas through my Baby’s eyes.
I remember how it felt waking up on Christmas morning,
Imagination, anticipation of every new surprise,
Anytime that feeling’s gone, if the spirit of the season leaves me,
I can find that simple spark in the eyes of a child,
So let’s sing out one more chorus, dance around the glowing fire,
Feel the warmth deep in our hearts burning all year long,
I want to look down on my little girl and see her shine, see her smile,
I want to know, I’ve gotta try, to see Christmas through my Baby’s eyes.
Of all the ghosts of Christmas that come to haunt me in my lifetime,
May I never fear the one who’s gift reminds me how to love…
So let’s sing out one more chorus, dance around the glowing fire,
Feel the warmth deep in our hearts burning all year long,
I want to look down on my little girl and see her shine, see her smile,
I want to know, I’ve gotta try, to see Christmas through my Baby’s eyes.
So let’s sing out one more chorus, dance around the glowing fire,
Feel the warmth deep in our hearts burning all year long,
I want to look down on my little girl and see her shine, see her smile,
I want to know, I’ve gotta try, to see Christmas through my Baby’s eyes.
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The Little Match Girl.
Adapted from the story by Hans Christian Anderson.
A long, long time ago, on a bitter, cold New Years Eve, a poor little girl with bare feet was trudging along through the cold snow.
Yes, her fit were bare, because she had no real shoes and the large slippers someone had given her had been lost when she ran to get away from a cart, and a naughty boy ran away with one of them. So, she was walking in the bitter, bitter cold snow and her poor little bare feet were red and blue with cold.
In her apron she was carrying a lot of matches that she was trying to sell for a penny a box. No one had bought any from her all day long and the poor little thing was shivering and hungry, but she was afraid to go home because her cruel foster father would beat her, for she had not sold even a half penny of matches all day long.
She looked into the bright, cheerful windows of homes as she walked by. Everyone seemed so warm and comfortable and happy….everyone except the poor little match girl.
She saw a beautiful, trimmed Christmas tree in one. From another came the tempting aroma of roast goose and she was so very hungry. I was getting colder and snowing harder and it was getting real dark when she huddled in a corner between 2 buildings to try to keep warm.
She took one little match from a book and lit it to try to warm her frozen fingers. How brightly it sputtered. In its light she seemed to see a warm stove. How warm and cozy it was, but when the match burned out, the stove disappeared and she was colder than ever.
She struck a second match and before her was a big table, with glistening white table cloth. There was a huge roast duck, with apples and cake and warm milk and she was so happy, because she was terribly hungry, and just as she was reaching for the roast duck, the match burned out and then she was colder and more hungry than ever.
She lighted another match and lo, there was the most beautiful Christmas tree she had ever seen…full of shiny toys and sparkling candles, candies and everything nice.
The beautiful candles rose higher and higher until they were only stars in the sky, and all of them fell. That falling star means someone is dying, she said to herself. My dear grandmother used to tell me that.
She quickly lit another match…and another…then a whole handful, and right in the bright glow, so dazzling and bright, so kind and loving, stood her dear, old grandmother with outstretched arms.
“Grandmother”, she cried….”Please take me with you. I know you will go away when the match burns out..just like the roast goose and the warm stove and the Christmas tree did.”
She quickly lighted the whole box of matches, because she did not want her grandmother to go. The matches burned with a blaze that was as light as day.
Her grandmother had never seemed so beautiful….and as she took the poor little match girl in her arms, she flew up with her in brightness and joy…high, so very high…and there was no cold, and no hunger, and no sorrow…and no matches to sell, for they were in Heaven.
In the morning, people passed by and saw the poor little girl, still huddled between the buildings, with all the burned matches around her.
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3. |
Christmas Time Again
04:22
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Christmas Time Again. [Song For The Homeless]
Copyright ©1995 words and music by Dean Batstone
I found this good heat riser out behind the Booth St. Mall
But if you’re not there by 5 o’clock, there’s no place left to fall
But tonight I’ll take my chances, tonight I might be late,
They’re having Christmas dinner and the Church of all them Saints
And the Army’s of Salvation sing, it’s Christmas time again
Peace on Earth that’s frozen doesn’t come without some pain
A 40 ounce of fire, give to me my Silent Night
Little Match Girl, light a match for me tonight
And if that’s my Merry Christmas, well alright.
Hark, the market seagulls sing, the French fry truck just closed
But I don’t care, tonight I’m full, roast turkey fills my bones
Me and Ozzy stashed this Ruby Rouge outside here in the snow
Guess Santa thinks I’m a good boy, there’s still half a jug to go
And the Army’s of Salvation sing, it’s Christmas time again
Peace on Earth that’s frozen doesn’t come without some pain
A 40 ounce of fire, give to me my Silent Night
Little Match Girl, light a match for me tonight
And if that’s my Merry Christmas, well alright.
Think I’ll close my eyes and rest awhile, I’m feeling kinda warm
I thought I heard my Momma call, it’s time now to come home
Now I’ll hang my stocking up and climb into my bed
With visions of a warm, clear light dancing in my head
And the Army’s of Salvation sing, it’s Christmas time again
Peace on Earth that’s frozen doesn’t come without some pain
A 40 ounce of fire, give to me my Silent Night
Little Match Girl, light a match for me tonight
And if that’s my Merry Christmas, well alright.
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Dean Batstone Ottawa, Ontario
DEAN BATSTONE - Bio
A veteran of the Canadian Music scene, having performed full time across Canada and The US for over 40
years, Dean Batstone shows no signs of slowing down anytime soon. A charismatic live performer who works solo or with a band, he has recorded 12 full length albums with some of the most iconic musicians in America.
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