A studio apartment in a dull part of Seattle A strand of light suspended By a thumb tack in the drywall The restaurants are closed So are the record shops The banks, and bars, and Bartell d** And so's the half price book store 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, yeah 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