[Tune -- "Good King Wenceslas"]
The captain and the crew looked out, on the blessed morning,
saw the angels all about, appearing without warning.
"Bless my soul!" the captain cried (all the crew agreeing),
"Can't be angels there outside -- angels like I'm seeing!"
"Many thousand years have passed since angels used to visit;
but if that's not an angel choir, tell me, crew, what is it?"
Silently they stood and stared, all around them glory,
knowing no one would believe this their Christmas story.
"Peace on Earth," the angels sang, "peace and love and gladness!
There shall be an end at last to murder and to madness!
Humankind has spent its youth tearing life asunder ...
time it learned to value life as miracle and wonder!"
Tears rolled down the captain's face to hear the angels singing,
the angels hov'ring near in space, the message they were bringing.
Was it just illusion ... or delirium ... or vision?
Were there really angels there, on a holy mission?
Said the captain to the crew, "We'll only know by waiting;
by all the things that people do when they're through celebrating.
Let it all be true!" he said (all the crew agreeing),
"Let the world be new," he said, "for every human being!"