You can have your Bing Crosby and your Nat King Cole and all those chestnuts roasting on an open fire.
Give me The Pogues and Fairy Tale of New York...
It was Christmas Eve, babe,
In the drunk tank.
An old man said to me, 'Won't see another one.'
And then he song a song,
The Rare Old Mountain Dew,
I turned my face away and dreamed about you.
Got on a lucky one
Came in eighteen to one,
I got a feeling
This year's for me and you.
So Happy Christmas, I love you baby,
I can see a better time
When all our dreams come true.
They've got cars big as bars
They've got rivers of gold,
But the wind goes right through you,
It's no place for the old.
When you first took my hand
On a cold Christmas Eve
You promised me Broadway was waiting for me.
You were handsome
You were pretty, Queen of New York City
When the band finished playing
They howled out for more.
Sinatra was swinging,
All the drunks they were singing
We kissed on the corner
Then danced through the night.
The boys of the NYPD choir were singing Galway Bay
And the bells were ringing out for Christmas Day.
You're a bum, you're a punk.
You're an old slut on junk,
Lying there almost dead on a drip in that bed.
You scumbag, you maggot,
You cheap lousy faggot,
Happy Christmas your arse I pray God it's our last.
The boys of the NYPD Choir were singing Galway Bay
And the bells were ringing out for Christmas Day.
I could have been someone.
Well so could anyone.
You took my dreams from me when I first found you.
I kept them with me babe,
I put them with my own.
Can't make it all alone,
I've built my dreams around you.
The boys of the NYPD Choir were singing Galway Bay
And the bells were ringing out for Christmas Day.
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