A free-form spoken-word holiday-inspired booze-soaked exploration of what it means to be a front-line soldier in the war against xmas. Enjoy!
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lyrics
It’s a 6 am morning on December twenty-five
And I’m barely alive
Late-night drunk debating
We were waiting
For the fat man
to hurry up and arrive.
And the little shits are screaming
At my door, they’ve been scheming
But they know —
It ain’t present time
Til daddy says…
I SAID!
Til’ daddy fucking says so.
Insane from the pain in the brain
Gotta clear the fog
Need a nip
Just a little tiny clip
Of the hair from last night’s dog.
But ho! Say hello!
On the bedside table,
With the black and white label,
Sweet whiskey brown
Slam it down
And now let’s…
Let’s fucking do this thing!
Another slug
And then the sweater
And I’m feeling so much better
And my halls are getting decked
And now the shampoo effect
And now I’m Christmas morning wrecked.
And now I’m blacking out
Christmas morning blacking out.
Under the tree we attack
Stacks and stacks
Rip the paper undone
Cause its your day,
And fuckin’ my day!
So let’s…
Let’s have some fuckin’ fun.
And the kids all squeal with joy
As we throw
Every shitty toy
From every aunt we hardly know
From the second floor window
Into the
Soft
White
Inviting
Snow.
The last thing I recall
Was a perfect snowball
Taking flight
Morning light
At my uptight
Asshole neighbor’s head.
He said:
“Joyous Noel and salutations!
Ha-ha
Gonna finally finish
putting up
those Christmas decorations?”
What I heard was the bird was stuffed
But the stuffing wasn’t nothing you could eat
Fucking shit
I thought that turkey stuffed with sweater
Would have tasted
So much better!
I told the mom-in-law to cheese it
Because the little baby Jesus
Was NO WAY born in December
They changed the date — I remember.
So let’s get pagan!
Where’s your sister?
Mistletoe, I tried to kiss her
Missed her,
Hit the floor
Rolled it through the guest room door
Like a drunken pile of bricks
That’s exactly where I woke up
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