The clock ticks on as I lie and wait,
A Christmas stocking on my bed.
Will he still come if I’m awake?
The man with the beard, dressed in red.
Out the window, I see the moon.
It’s watching me as I try and sleep.
Will Father Christmas come soon?
Will he tip-toe with quietened feet?
From the night sky comes the snow.
All white and covered in frost.
How will he see where to go?
Oh I do hope he doesn’t get lost.
Does he remember the way here?
Does he remember my garden gate?
Have I been a good girl this year?
Getting school and never late.
Can he see if I’m awake?
Will I see if I peep?
Will he hear any noise I make?
Oh will I ever fall asleep?
Will I see the break of dawn?
Or will it always be the night?
How long before the morn?
My bedroom be bathed in light.
I don’t remember falling asleep.
I don’t remember seeing him come.
I feel something heavy at my feet.
Leaping from bed, he’s been and gone!
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