Let them go let them go. Let them try their wings. Little birds were born to fly. Not until they're home. And they miss their home. And it won't be long 'til Christmas. When the branches appear. That'll descent the air. Comes alive with frost and pine. And they'll yearn to be. By the family tree. Oh it won't be long 'til Christmas. The years go by. And every night you'll say. Sweet dreams sleep tight. Then there comes the day. You're forced to say. Don't forget to write. There'll be holly and popcorn and mistletoe. There'll be songs by the fireplace. Oh it won't be long 'til Christmas. Let them go. Let them go. Let them go. Let them go