All the streets nAre filled nWith laughter nAnd lightnAnd the music nOf the seasonnAnd the nMerchants' windows nAre all brightnWith the faces nOf the childrennAnd the families nHurrying nTo their homesnAs the sky darkens nAnd freezesnThey'll be gathering nAround the hearths nAnd talesnGiving thanks nFor all god's gracesnAnd the birth nOf the rebel JesusnnWell they call him nBy the prince nOf peacenAnd they call him nBy the SaviornAnd they pray nTo him nUpon the seasnAnd in every nBold endeavornAs they fill nHis churches nWith their pride nAnd goldnAnd their faith nIn him increasesnBut they've nTurned the nature nThat I worshipped innFrom a temple nTo a robber's dennIn the words nOf the rebel JesusnnWe guard our world nWith locks and gunsnAnd we guard nOur fine possessionsnAnd once a year nWhen Christmas comesnWe give nTo our relationsnAnd perhaps we give nA little to the poornIf the generosity nShould seize usnBut if any one of us nShould interferenIn the business of why nThey are poornThey get the same nAs the rebel JesusnnBut please nForgive me nIf I seemnTo take the tone nOf judgementnFor I've no wish nTo come betweennThis day nAnd your enjoymentnIn this life nOf hardship nAnd of earthly toilnWe have need nFor anything nThat frees usnSo I bid you nPleasurenAnd I bid you nCheernFrom a heathen nAnd a pagannOn the side nOf the Rebel Jesus