The song “Melancholy Christmas” is a song about isolation and loneliness during the Christmas holiday season and highlights the need for connection with those living alone.
Melancholy Christmas.
Lyrics: American singer-songwriter and musician Amy Lee Grant and record producer, singer/songwriter, Marshall Noah Altman. Vocals: Amy Lee Grant.
Melancholy Christmas.
I post another picture from the quiet of my room, And wonder who’ll like it and wonder what to do, With the rest of tonight and tomorrow tonight too. Christmas is coming soon. Coming soon. Maybe I’ll call up some friends, just to see if they’re home. I don’t want to feel lonely, but I’m here alone, And the snow falls down. Coming down. (Merry Christmas). You could come over, (Merry Christmas). It’s not too late, (Merry Christmas). Don’t worry ’bout presents, (Merry Christmas). I’ve saved you a place, (Merry Christmas). Light a few candles, (Merry Christmas). And sing Christmas songs, (Merry Christmas). Everybody, (Merry Christmas). Needs a place to belong, (Merry Christmas). It’s Christmas, (Merry Christmas). If you feel lonely, (Merry Christmas). I feel it too, (Merry Christmas). If nobody’s said it, (Merry Christmas). I’m wishing you, (Merry Christmas). Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas.
According to the Irish Govrnment: You are considered homeless if one of the following applies to you:-
There is no accommodation available that you and any other person who normally lives with you, can reasonably stay in.
You are living in a hospital, county home, night shelter or other such institution, and you are living there because you have no suitable accommodation.
You are unable to provide accommodation from your own resources.
In general, you may be considered homeless if you are:-
Sleeping rough.
Staying in an emergency hostel or refuge.
Staying in bed and breakfast or hotel accommodation on a temporary basis.
Staying temporarily with friends or family because you have nowhere else to go.
Squatting(occupying a building illegally)
While our current Taoiseach and Minister for Foreign Affairs, perceive themselves as global statesmen striding the universe, 14,303 individuals accessed emergency accommodation nationally in June 2024 – an increase of 144(1%) on May 2024.
The Fountain.
Lyrics: American country singer/songwriter Mitch Rossell. Vocals:Mitch Rossell[Third place finisher in Season 18 of America’s Got Talent.]
Please read the lyricshereunder.
The Fountain.
My name is James Lee Roberts, and I think I’m 36, But it’s hard to keep track of the days when you live a life like this. I look for ways to eat and a place to sleep when it gets dark, But I spend most of my time on this bench here in the park. And every day is different, but as long as it don’t rain, There’s a fountain with an angel where strangers bring their change. They stand there for a minute, some even close their eyes, And right off of their fingertips they let their wishes fly. And I can’t help but think as they sink in the water, That if you add ’em up it’d get me through at least a little while. So I wonder how long wishes have to sit there at the bottom, Before the chance of coming true passes by. Cars and clothes and money, and houses on a hill, Faith and love and happiness, and broken hearts to heal. Every dream is different, but every dreamer is the same, We’re all in search of something that a little change can bring. And I can’t help but think as they sink in the water, That if you add ’em up it’d get me through at least a little while, So I wonder how long wishes have to sit there at the bottom, Before the chance of coming true passes by. And I can’t help but think as they sink in the water, That if you add ’em up it’d get me through at least a little while. Oh but if I made a wish to get my life out of rock bottom, I wouldn’t want somebody taking mine. My name is James Lee Roberts, and I think I’m 36 But it’s hard to keep track of the days when you live a life like this.
END
According to the 2022 census, there are 163,433 vacant homes in Ireland, of which 48,000 have been empty since 2016.
Lyrics: American flautist, composer, conductor, musical arranger, bandleader, playwright, and writer, the late Robert Reiniger Meredith(1902-1984). Vocals: American singer and actor, the late Harry Lillis “Bing” Crosby Jr.(1903–1977).
It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.
It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas, Everywhere you go. Take a look in the five and ten, it’s glistening once again, With candy canes and silver lanes aglow. It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas, Toys in every store, But the prettiest sight to see the holly that will be, On your own front door. A pair of Hopalong boots and a pistol that shoots, Is the wish of Barney and Ben. Dolls that’ll talk and will go for a walk, Is the hope of Janice and Jen, And Mom and Dad can hardly wait for school to start again. It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas, Everywhere you go. There’s a tree in the Grand Hotel, one in the park as well, It’s the sturdy kind that doesn’t mind the snow. It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas, Soon the bells will start, And the thing that’ll make ’em ring is the carol that you sing, Right within your heart. It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas, Toys in every store. But the prettiest sight to see is the holly that will be, On your own front door. Sure, it’s Christmas once more,
Vocals: American singer/songwriter Carly Pearce and Canadian singer/songwrite Michael Bublé. Songwriters:Michael Steven Buble; Canadian singer-songwriter and author Jann Arden; songwriter Chase McGill and Canadian record producer, songwriter, multi-instrumentalist and mix engineer Gregory William Wells.
Maybe This Christmas.
I’ve been running all my life, I’ve been trying to get it right, Sentimentally, the thing I do well, But it’s Christmastime again, And I’m missing all my friends, A million miles away, a toast to their health. Now it’s a shot out in the dark, I’m just wishing on a star, And I wish I knew just what to do. Lord, I think I need your light, On this cold and silent night, I’m just hanging on, it’s all that I can do. And all the snow Falling down on the city, and the good souls below. It ain’t the same, When it comes down and turns into rain, ‘Cause it’s Christmastime, I can’t be alone again. You’ve been running through my mind, And no matter how I try, When the bells of Old St. Pat’s start to ring, And it’s so hard for me to hear, You’re alone this time of year, And the bitterness that that cold must bring. And when you’re sitting in the dark, And it’s falling all apart, I’ll be lighting up a candle for you. I know it’s sad to be alone, I wish you joy and peace and hope, Wish you all the love that your heart can hold. And all the snow, Falling down on the city, and the good souls below. It ain’t the same, When it comes down and turns into rain, ‘Cause it’s Christmastime, Shouldn’t be alone again. Maybe this Christmas, Don’t have to be alone again. END
Vocals:Cormac Thompson, originally from Northern Ireland, (then aged 12 years). Lyrics: From ‘Les Miserables’, latter a ‘sung-through musical‘, based on the 1862 novel of the same name by Victor Hugo and written by French record producer, actor, singer, songwriter Claude-Michel Schönberg; French national musical theatre lyricist and librettist Alain Boublil and South African-born English journalist and lyricist Herbert Kretzmer.
Empty Chairs At Empty Tables.
There’s a grief that can’t be spoken There’s a pain goes on and on Empty chairs at empty tables Now my friends are dead and gone Here they talked of revolution Here it was they lit the flame Here they sang about tomorrow And tomorrow never came From the table in the corner They could see a world reborn And they rose with voices ringing And I can hear them now! The very words that they had sung Became their last communion On this lonely barricade At dawn Oh my friends, my friends forgive me That I live and you are gone There’s a grief that can’t be spoken There’s a pain goes on and on Phantom faces at the window Phantom shadows on the floor Empty chairs at empty tables Where my friends will meet no more Oh my friends, my friends Don’t ask me what your sacrifice was for Empty chairs at empty tables Where my friends will sing no more
Recent Comments