She stands on her corner in her lipstick and rouge
Her fishnet stockings and her stiletto shoes
It's half past midnight, she waits all alone
The towns d**hly quiet and she is chilled to the bone
There's Peter, the preacherman, in an alley off Main
He's ranting and raving about Jesus and sin
Nobody hears him with his face to the snow
It's Christmas down on Water Street and it's fifteen below
CHORUS
Their eyes once held sunlight, they sparkled like gold
And now there is just sadness, they're empty and cold
There's kids and there's angels on trees over toys
And there's Christmas down on Water Street
Peter and Joy
It's four in the morning Joy gives up the ghost
Peter's speed dialing the heavenly host
She strolls through the alley says Peter it's time to go
To that ten dollar motel where the wind doesn't blow
REPEAT CHORUS