The air is cold on this wintery night
The moon is full and round
I can smell hot cookies fresh from the oven
and I hear campfires crackling tonight
As I trudge through the fresh fallen snow
I hear a wondrous sound
Carols being sung and children laughing-I hear it for many miles around
And once again I hear my father's voice saying Brookie go to sleep
Santa's coming once you're in bed so you better not make a peep