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
Where all our dreams come true

They’ve got cars big as bars
They’ve got rivers of gold
(R.I.P Kirsty, you died a hero, saving your children.)

The wind blows 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

When you first took my hand on that cold Christmas Eve,
Ya 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 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.

(I love this song, by the way, and today is Shane MacGowan’s birthday, appropriately enough.)

(Emily - you weren’t here last year, but this is our traditional holiday sing-along.)

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