It was the day before Christmas, all the little cobblers went to work
The day before Christmas and my feet are sore, walking these cold streets alone
I had run over shoes, sores on my feet
This **** street, wind and sin, stinging the tears from eyes like pitchers pouring
The cobblestones hurt my feet, walking barefooted, well hooded now, girls swaying with crockpot hips and blue twine
Little girls with hoods on their jackets.
Smack it, back at it, do it drastic
Fog and dark gray sky, cobblestones made me cry again today
I was in pain, walking in the dark gray shadows
Written by Sam Brazell and Patrick Kennon, thanks Sam, I miss you brother.