Joseph, Joseph, in your cattle stall,
Joseph, Joseph, what do you make of it all, make of it all?

You and your working man's hands and your wrinkled eyes:
How come that you understand? How come so wise?
How come that you show no surprise
When all around the snowy ground is golden tonight, this frosty night?
How come that you know just who the baby is this winter midnight?

Oh, Joseph, Joseph, in your cattle stall,
Joseph, Joseph, what do you make of it all?

Do you know these three Kings, just who they are:
Caspar and Melchior and Balthazar?
Do you know why they came so far
Or even why the air is full of angels tonight, this frosty night?
And why your head is full of music on this winter midnight?

Oh, Joseph, Joseph, in your cattle stall,
Joseph, Joseph, what do you make of it all?

You were so true for so long, so unafraid.
But nobody sings you any songs, no serenades.
And although your face is old and pale
Yet I for one will keep you in my mind's eye tonight, this frosty night;
You're just the man that I want to remember on this winter midnight.

Oh, Joseph, Joseph, in your cattle stall,
Joseph, Joseph, what do you make of it all, make of it all?

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