This December, This Year, This Christmas EP

by Andy Shea

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about

A collection of songs arranged, performed, and recorded by Andy Shea December 2016.

I hope you enjoy these mopey songs but have a merry Christmas and happy holidays!

credits

released December 21, 2016

All instruments arranged and performed by Andy Shea.

"Silent Night" by Franz Xaver Gruber
"This Year, This December" by Andy Shea
"What Child is This?" adapted from William Chatterton Dix by Andy Shea

Find more: www.whoisandyshea.com
Contact: andysheamusic@gmail.com
IG and Twitter: @whoisandyshea


Artwork by Lamont Creative
Contact: paul@lamontcreative.com
IG: @paullamontagne

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license

all rights reserved

about

Andy Shea Washington, D.C.

Singer/Songwriter based in DC with New England roots. I believe songs are meant for sharing. People make performances. Let's create something meaningful. Thank you for listening!

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Track Name: Silent Night
Silent night
Holy night
All is calm
All is bright
Round yon virgin
Mother and Child
Holy Infant
So tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace
Track Name: This December, This Year
You're warm this December
with no thanks to me.
Though we once laid together
by the light of the tree.

But this year,
It's just me.

I can still hear the carols
Where we phrased harmonies
Where we praised Emmanuel
But our prayers were diseased

So this year,
we won't speak.
Yeah this year,
I'll just breathe.

The snow starts to settle,
presents placed by the tree.
I'm keeping warm by the fire,
but I"m still incomplete.

Cause this year,
It's just me.
Yeah, this year,
It's just me.
Track Name: What Child is This? (Where is He Now?)
What Child is this who laid to rest
On Mary's lap is sleeping?
Whom Angels greet with anthems sweet,
While shepherds watch are keeping?

This, this is Christ the King,
Whom shepherds guard and Angels sing.
Haste, haste, to bring Him laud,
The Babe, the Son of Mary.

Why can’t I see my King today?
Stained blood spilt wrongly in His name.
Good Christians, bear the cross, the blame-
Stay silent, scared of speaking.

Nails, spear once pierced His side.
The cross he bore we must abide.
Hail, hail the Word made flesh,
The Babe, the Son of Mary.

Two thousand years, two thousand more
We’ll praise Him on each Christmas morn.
By sunset pray we won’t move on -
Let faithful hearts keep beating

Raise, raise a song on high,
The virgin sings her lullaby.
Joy, joy for Christ is born,
The Babe, the Son of Mary.