Empty chairs at Christmas time

A song for everyone who celebrates Christmas far from home

"Empty chairs at Christmas time / Twenty voices now down to two / Presence always mattered more than presents / And I wish that I was there with you"

The story behind the song

Christmas is supposed to be about coming together. But what happens when "home" is on the other side of the world?

Christmas oceans apart is an honest, heartfelt song about the immigrant experience during the holidays—the paradox of building a beautiful new life whilst missing the people who shaped you. It's about celebrating Christmas with just two people when you're used to twenty. About video calls that drop out just as the laughter gets loud. About not bothering to put up a tree some years because it just doesn't feel the same.

But it's also about resilience. About gratitude. About holding onto love across hemispheres.

This isn't a sad Christmas song—it's a real one.

What makes this song special

Authentic cultural fusion:

• South African folk rock foundation with deep, raspy vocals
• Zulu call-and-response harmonies
• A rap verse that speaks the truth many immigrants feel but rarely voice
• Subtle Christmas vibes woven throughout (acoustic guitar, sleigh bells)

Universal yet personal: Whether you're celebrating Christmas far from family, missing someone you love, or navigating life between two cultures—this song speaks to that ache. The loneliness of watching everyone else's Instagram-perfect family gatherings. The guilt of leaving. The courage it took to stay. The hope that one day, you'll gather again.

Production quality: Professionally crafted South African folk rock with careful attention to:

• Melodic storytelling verses that flow naturally
• A singalong chorus with a hook you won't forget
• Genuine Zulu phrases with pronunciation guides
• Layered harmonies and atmospheric instrumentation
• A fast-flow rap section that hits hard with honesty

The emotional journey

Verse 1: The South African Christmas you remember—family, braai, brandy-soaked cake, voices talking over voices
Verse 2: Your Australian Christmas now—peaceful but quiet, the barbecue and beach walks, traditions that don't quite fill the space
Bridge: The raw truth—missing not just milestones but mundane moments, the freedom to be fully yourself
Rap: The reality nobody talks about—everyone else has plans, you're figuring it out alone, but you're grateful anyway
Zulu call-response: Throughout—reminding you that distance doesn't break bonds, love travels far, we will meet again

Reviews and reactions

"This is the Christmas song I didn't know I needed. Finally, someone gets it."

"The 'presence over presents' line hit me right in the chest. Exactly what I've been feeling for years."

"Beautiful fusion of cultures. The Zulu harmonies gave me chills."

Why "presence over presents"?

Because when you grow up with twenty people around the Christmas table, you learn early that the magic isn't in the wrapped boxes—it's in the laughter, the stories, the way family just gets you. And when you're building a life on the other side of the world, that's what you miss most.

Not the gifts. The presence.

A note from Mossbeard

This song came from my own experience as a South African living in Australia. Every Christmas, my wife and I navigate this bittersweet reality—we're blessed with our new life, but we're aching for the family gatherings we grew up with.

I wanted to create something that honoured both the pain and the gratitude. Something that didn't sugarcoat the loneliness but also didn't wallow in it. Something real.

If you've ever celebrated a holiday far from the people who raised you, this song is for you.

Technical details

• Genre: South African folk rock with rap, Zulu harmonies, Australian elements
• Mood: Bittersweet, nostalgic, honest, hopeful
• Tempo: 110 BPM
• Length: 3-4 minutes
• Language: English with Zulu phrases
• Instrumentation: Acoustic guitar, didgeridoo, sleigh bells, percussion, isicathamiya harmonies