There are two exceptions to my hatred of the Xmas music: Bowie and Crosby's "Little Drummer Boy," (as overdone as it is), and "Fairytale of New York," from The Pogues (with a little vocal help from Kirsty MacColl), because it's just so... so... mean.
I like mean.
"Fairytale of New York"
Shane MacGowan:
It was Christmas eve babe
In the drunk tank
An old man said to me, won't see another one
And then he sang 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've 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
Kirsty MacColl:
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
MacGowan:
You were pretty
Queen of New York City
Both:
When the band finished playing
They howled out for more
Sinatra was swinging,
All the drunks they were singing
We kissed on a 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
MacColl:
You're a bum
You're a punk
MacGowan
You're an old slut on junk
Lying there almost dead on a drip in that bed
MacColl:
You scumbag, you maggot
You cheap lousy faggot
Happy Christmas your arse
I pray God it's our last
Both:
The boys of the NYPD choir
Were singing "Galway Bay"
And the bells were ringing out
For Christmas day
MacGowan:
I could have been someone
MacColl:
Well so could anyone
You took my dreams from me
When I first found you
MacGowan:
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
Both:
The boys of the NYPD choir
Were singing "Galway Bay"
And the bells were ringing out
For Christmas day
