A cheerful little Christmas ditty from Irishmen Shane MacGowan and the Popes.
It seems I could freeze-out, it seems like I’ll freeze.
Stumbling, I fell down and prayed on my knees.
The ice wagon’s coming to pick up the stiffs.
Had a chat with an ol’ one, he was gone in a jiff.
And Santa and his reindeer jumped over the moon,2
so, hush, little child, Santa’s coming here soon.
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral.
Too-ra-loo-ra-lie.
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral.
That’s the Christmas lullaby.
I hope you grow up angry, just like your dear old dad.
I hope you grow up brave and strong, not like me – all weak and sad.
You said “Daddy, daddy, you’re stinking of booze.”
I kissed him and said “Kid, I was born to lose;
but you have the future, and a big world to save,
and I hope you’ll remember all the love that I gave.”
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral.
Too-ra-loo-ra-lie.
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral.
That’s the Christmas lullaby.
Here’s to all the little kids who haven’t got no clothes.
Here’s to all the little kids who haven’t got no homes.
It’s Christmas time in Palestine, it’s Christmas in Beirut.
They’re scrapping ’round for rice, not for tutti-fruits.
And the Christmas lights, they blew up, now the lecky’s all gone dead,3
I look like a coal miner, and I’ve a pain inside my head.
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral.
Too-ra-loo-ra-lie.
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral.
That’s the Christmas lullaby.