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Unrest in weary, weakened men has sparked a seething fume

Such torrid souls divided breathe the dismal, cheerless gloom

Existence cold and diffident, resigned unto this doom

No tidings of comfort and joy.

The winds have brought a chill upon the homes of working men

As children and their mothers seeking warmth in hearth and friend

But servants to their wages, hath they not a coin to spend

No tidings of comfort and joy

The avarice of hundreds few has shattered lives unseen

And stripped the poor of homesteads for their austerity

Rapacity is worshiped to subvert all charity

No tidings of comfort and joy.

The broken and the beggars may unite in strength and force

To mobilize and protest to correct this crooked course

But radiant lights and false delights doth blind us to the source

No tidings of comfort and joy.

What hope remains when those in chains so harshly are ignored

The famished and the destitute, their grievances deplored

Our only warmth in wintertime: the constant fire of war

No tidings of comfort and joy.

Despair ye not, o’ weary men, for triumph can be gained

We offer prayer for mutiny and passions unrestrained

To break the bonds of usurers and dastards holding reign

And bring tidings of comfort and joy.

So hearken, steadfast mortal men and women trodden down

No savior but thyselves can liberate and wear the crown

The spirits of apostasy; deliv’rance hath we found!

O, tidings of comfort and joy!