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