The sun is shining, the grass is green
The orange and palm trees sway
There's never been such a day
In Beverley Hills, L. A.
But it's De-cember the twen-ty-fourth
And I am longing to be up north
I'm dreaming of a white Christmas
just like the ones I used to know
Where the tree tops glisten and children listen
To hear sleigh bells in the snow
I'm dreaming of a white Christmas
with every Christmas card I write
May your days be merry and bright
And may all your Christmas-es be white
And may all your Christmas-es be white
Irving Berlin,