I’d like to be home for Christmas.

That’s where the rhythm wise hip-hop is,

That’s where the rock and the jazz is,

The place where I dream happy

Where I dance to sweet homemade reggae.

I’d like to be home for Christmas.

The world can be viewed from the back room,

It lights up in the soul full moon,

From there it’s my stars that I see

There dwells the real history of me.

I’d like to be where my heart is.

Childhood naughtiness I can’t defend,

Kids’ arguments that never end,

We shout and fight so endlessly,

Apparently that’s family.

I left home one year – around Christmas.

I went off to do some big man things,

Me and mine we lived like kings,

My pad was smart, and safe, and lush,

Yes, we were ghetto fabulous.

But it all fell apart – around Christmas.

My safety net just up and went,

No insurance, no friends, no rent,

My descent was hard, painful and short,

And me – too macho to seek support.

I lost my way – around Christmas.

I suffered alone in many a crowd,

I begged where begging was not allowed,

I cried and prayed, but no one heard,

No god or statesman said a word.

So I’d like to be home for Christmas.

But now I am a refugee,

My family has disowned me,

Depression came and made me low,

I found me with no place to go.

We can’t all be happy at Christmas.

Civilization, humankind,

Can I get some peace of mind?

Turn your body, shift your eye,

The great and good just pass me by.

What makes a home at Christmas?

Is it he who offers me a smile?

Or she that stops to talk a while?

Some spare cash in an envelope?

Or they that stop and offer hope?

Crisis will be home for Christmas.

Compassion came and rescued me,

Advice with heart and empathy,

Touched me with a helping hand,

Now I have a better Christmas planned.