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Oh How I love Christmas.Let it be Christmas, so I can see The Angel on Top of The Tree.and all the presents wrapped in Pretty Paper
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Imagine someone walks into my home and leaves a silly wraped gift done in a garbage bag.a Harlem santa who is this santa
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To the beautiful woman that I sometimes meet As I walk in the morning down Northington Street
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The gypsies eyes spoke of a life, / Where tears were danced away. / Singing songs on winds of cheer, / They brightened everyday. / The gypsies hair spoke of a life, / Where every day is free. / Dancing on the
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The magic of Christmas is all through the town.
Counting down the days 'till the big day rolls around.
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