[Intro ] Lights drip like coins on cracked concrete, (ooh) A single bulb hums above the kitchen seat. My voice swells, a breath held long and thin, We start inside the hush where stories begin. [Verse 1] Late rent notice on the kitchen table, folded tight, Receipt shows eggs at twice the cost tonight. A kid counts coins in a sock behind the door, Empty gift boxes stacked by the pantry floor. She folds the list, crosses off the toys she wanted most, A declined card at checkout, the cashier glances close. Soft footsteps in a small apartment fight, Holiday lights flicker, ledger of lights in red tonight. (ooh) [Chorus ] Holiday ledgers running red, Holiday ledgers running red, Lines of numbers, lines of faces—hope threads thin thread. Holiday ledgers running red, Holiday ledgers running red, We sing it loud so the corner office hears instead. (ooh) [Verse 2] A graph on the evening news, interest rates climbing slow, Seasonal layoffs on line two, the factory's lights go low. Supply slow in the docks, the shelves look more like dreams, Credit-card maxed at the register, swallowed whole by the machines. Food-bank lines curl round the block where laughter used to be, Rents keep rising like ocean tides, stealing roofs and peace. The city hums a broken tune of corporate wallets fat and fed, We trace the paper trail and find our names in red. (ooh) [Chorus ] Holiday ledgers running red, Holiday ledgers running red, A chorus singing receipts, late notices by the bed. Holiday ledgers running red, Holiday ledgers running red, Hold that note—let the chorus bind the loose and mend the thread. (ooh) [Bridge ] Tell me—who counts the cost? (ooh) Tell me—who pays the frost? (ooh) Short lines, short breaths, stacked like bills on kitchen chairs. Voices layer, call and answer—soft, relentless prayers. We shout the one line until the windows fill and spread: Holiday ledgers running red—Holiday ledgers running red. (ooh) [Verse 3] Neighbors bring casseroles, a pot by the doorway steams, Community kitchens map a future stitched from smaller dreams. A poster on the lamp: "Raise the wage, return our nights," People pooling coins for toys under dim porch lights. Union hands fold petitions like paper cranes of hope, Food drives hum, pantry doors open—tight hands learn to cope. From broken receipts we stitch a ledger that reads instead: Credit to the people, not the balance sheets stained red. (ooh) [Outro ] Holiday ledgers running red, Holiday ledgers running red, Now the anchor lifts—a new chorus, stronger, widely spread. Holiday ledgers running red, Holiday ledgers running red, But hearts recalibrate, the future sings: our hands will mend the thread. Holiday ledgers running red—no longer bound by that old dread, We hold this note, we hold this light, till every ledger turns to bread. (ooh)