Words: Dave Boulton Music: Jeff Parton
Did you ever wonder why the Christmas fairy gets stuck up here upon the Christmas tree?
Well it’s not the way I planned it and its Santa the old bandit that’s the cause of all me pain and misery
Cos I try to do me best for father Christmas but it seems I can’t so right for doing wrong
And if I’m seeming quite distressed and you want to know the rest you can find it in the chorus of me song
Cos he’s mean and moody and he’s dark and broody and I think you’d best be careful what you say
Cos he’s short and snappy and he don’t look happy put a foot wrong and you’ll find there’s hell to pay
So go easy with the word you use be sure to mind your P’s and Q’s and just don’t mess with Santa Clause today
Well the reindeer were all keeping a low profile which with antlers isn’t easy to achieve
And the pixies were in hiding or they’re ducking and they’re diving to avoid the missile whizzing past their ears
The gnomes are treading egg shells in the workshop or hiding under boxes in the stores
And Santa’s little helpers are all hapless hurt and helpless and I think by now you’ll guess its all because.
Well I thought I’d get a Christmas tree for Santa thought perhaps that all he needed was fuss
So I sought it and I bought it then I fought it till I’d brought it all the way back from the market on the bus
I walked in with it perched upon my shoulder you could have cut the atmosphere of gloom and doom
And as all heads turns towards me except Santa’s who ignored me you could hear the needles dropping round the room
Now perhaps I should have known it was the wrong time for banter and for badinage and such
You’ll have had the situations where your mouth is making statements whilst your brain is begging you to keep it shut
And perhaps I could have phrased the question better but hind sights an expensive luxury
And I wished that I was dead when I realised I’d said “Aye fat man where’d you want to stick this tree?
So now you’ve heard my song and know my story and now you know the reason for my plight
And though there’s no use in complaining and it’s only me I’m blaming well I’m just a teeny weeny bit uptight
Cos the road to hell is paved with good intentions but that’s not the reason why I’m feeling glum
It’s just that it’s not funny spending Christmas with no money and a yard of fir tree sticking up your bum