She comes from a place faraway from here
where things were so different and easier to comprehend
the days were much longer, never as short as this
the nights were much shorter, and never as cold as this

the streets here are filled with lights and decorations
it's five o'clock but cold and dark her fingers are frozen
the people speak a language that she doesn't understand
they celebrate a feast but she's not a part of it

Why should she care that it's Christmas
(this alien feast)

The people are all worked up about stuff like ants in a giant anthill
Streets are filled with stress and noise, uncomprehensible mellow music
they buy expensive stuff while she has hardly enough to feed her family
and she doesn't understand much of what's going on in this chaos

And there's he empty religious symbols that no-one seems to really believe in
the weird American iconography the consumerist idolatry
a lot of empty words of peace and love but does anyone even hear them
why celebrate a feast that’s she’s not a part of at all

Why should she care that it's Christmas
(this alien feast)

(she moves through the city like a ghost
more alone than ever
more cold than ever
darkness at its peak point
thinking about the place that she left
the religion she understood
the feasts they had
but she can't go back)

Is there anything at all left here to believe in
and where is the baby Jesus?