When Winter's shadowy fingers first pursue you down the street

And your boots no longer lie about the cold around your feet

Do you spare a thought for Summer whose passage [bad word] 

Whose memories lie [bad word] and [bad word] lie in heat
(Dsus4, D, Dsus4, D)x2
When [bad word] howling in.

When the wind is singing strangely, blowing music through your head
And your rain-splattered windows make you decide to stay in bed
Do you spare a thought for the homeless tramp who wishes he was dead
Or do you pull your bed-clothes higher, dream of Summertime instead,
When [bad word] howling in.

The creeping cold has fingers that caress without permission
And mystic crystal snowdrops only aggravate the condition
Do you spare a thought for the gypsy with no secure position
Who's turned and spurned by village and town and the Magistrate's decision,
When [bad word] howling in.

When the turkey's in the oven and the Christmas presents are bought
And Santa's in his module - he's an American astronaut -
Do you spare a thought for Jesus, who had nothing but his thoughts,
Who got busted - just for talking, and befriending the wrong sorts,
When [bad word] howling in.

When [bad word] howling in.