 | Songs for Sailors |  |
HERE WE SIT BY OUR CHRISTMAS FIRE.
Here we sit by our Christmas fire,
Baby—baby!
And what do we wish till wishes tire,
Baby—baby!
What can your wish and mine, babe, be,
But that father were here with you and me,
Father, so far on the cold dark sea?
Baby—baby?
Baby—baby!
And what do we wish till wishes tire,
Baby—baby!
What can your wish and mine, babe, be,
But that father were here with you and me,
Father, so far on the cold dark sea?
Baby—baby?
Oh, that wishing could waft him here,
Baby—baby!
Could bring him to us, so kind and dear,
Baby—baby!
How we would toast him, baby, there,
In the brightest blaze, in the softest chair;
Father but here, and for what should we care,
Baby—baby?
Baby—baby!
Could bring him to us, so kind and dear,
Baby—baby!
How we would toast him, baby, there,
In the brightest blaze, in the softest chair;
Father but here, and for what should we care,
Baby—baby?
| Songs for Sailors | |