You Coming Home

I could string up every light And then string up some more

I could hang a sprig of mistletoe on every open door

I could wrap a thousand presents to ring in the time of year

But there is no greater gift than when you're close to me my dear

I could warm some apple cider, make the house smell oh so sweet

Could leave out a plate of gingerbread for old Nicholas to eat

I could hang up all the stockings, by the fireplace aglow

But nothing feels like Christmas more than you coming home.

I don't need a single present underneath my Christmas tree

Wouldn't care if dear old Santa didn't have the time for me