A studio apartment in a dull part of Seattle
A strand of light suspended by a thumbtack in the drywall
The restaurants are closed
So are the record shops, the banks, and bars, and Bartel drugs,
and so’s the half price bookstore
But the movies are always open
And I always have to open
A repertory movie house
Well life is not so wonderful
For 15 soggy patrons who have no better place to be
Not to mention me
I’m working for a holiday wage
My family is two time zones away,
I’m supposed to call them
My vodka and snow is melting
The alcohol isn’t helping
Sometimes you have to work on Christmas, sometimes
You have to work on Christmas, sometimes
You gotta work on Christmas,
I doubt I’ll miss this
There’s an artificial tree blinking in the lobby,
Sitting on the coffee table, yea
Strangers and spare changers stand in line like poor relations
At some kind of sad reunion
And I’m selling the tickets
They come in out of the weather
For Christmas alone together
Sometimes you have to work on Christmas, sometimes
You have to work on Christmas, sometimes
You have to work on Christmas,
I doubt I’ll miss this next year
Sometimes you have to work on Christmas, sometimes
You gotta work on Christmas, sometimes
You have to work on Christmas,
I doubt I’ll miss this at all