Christmas Shoes. Don’t get me started.
I hate The First Noel. I always want to sing “So Where In The Hel-ell Is Ih-is-RYE-ell”? It’s Is-REE-ell dammit.
I was all confused because I finally learned a few years back which song is that one and I could have sworn none of the versions I normally sing has that bit. According to Unca Google, my memory is correct: neither Adeste Fideles nor Venid fieles todos robbed the Nicean Creed and then stuck that strange line in the middle.
But now I really wish I knew who the heck wrote a Spanish version using the non-word célicas 
[sup]n[/sup] Didn’t his school have enough budget to teach the kids how to say celestes, which is actually in the dictionary (“heavenly”)? Was it used by someone in a book as a purposeful mistake, so if people copied it he could track the copy? We probably will never know.
The Latin lyrics I know say laeti triumphante.
Comedian Patton Oswalt deconstructs “Christmas Shoes.”
The Little Drummer Boy is so annoying that another song was written about him: I link to The Annoying Drummer Boy. Best line: But here we are at 3 a.m. with Ringo Starr of Bethlehem. Pure genius.
“Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” if it’s sung “Through the years we all will be together if the fates allow/Hang a shining star upon the highest bough.” I much prefer the line “Until then, we’ll have to muddle through somehow.”
I know that. Do you know what * nusquam* means? The substitution was deliberate.
I like the Porky Pig version.
Jack Frost roasting on an open fire,
Chestnuts snipping at your nose.
I thought it was “Chet’s nuts roasting on an open fire” ?
No, it’s “Chess nuts boasting in an open foyer”
What Christmas would be complete without Bob Rivers?
I feel dumb now but I actually looked up this lyric after hearing the song AGAIN this morning:
In the meadow we can build a snowman
Then pretend that he is Parson Brown
He’ll say: Are you married?
we’ll say: No man
But you can do the job
when you’re in town
I had always heard “Carson Brown”…and wondered who the heck he was.
Can we talk about Barbra Streisand and the cocaine-fueled Jingle Bells frenzy?
Performed by anyone else I can tolerate this song, and I can tolerate pretty much anything else Barbra sings, but this one makes me want to tie her to the front bumper of a garbage truck and drive through a field full of saguaro cactus and blind school children.
I was even farther off. I always heard “Even though the trees are parched and brown”
When I was junior-high school age, my sister and I (she was two years younger) found a 45 rpm record of “Little Drummer Boy.” We put it on the phonograph without using an adaptor to fit the big hole to the spindle, so we could enjoy the distorted sound of “rum-pa-pum-pum” as the pitch rose and fell because of the tone arm swinging in and out. 
Winter Wonderland always confused me as a kid. There’s really nothing wrong with the song (other than, as an adult, I loathe winter).
The problem is rooted in the annual Christmas singalong at my elementary school. The school projected the words to the songs on a screen, and typography/kerning issues with the transparency for this song led to the lyric:
“AND PRETEND THAT HE IS PARS ON BROWN”
I read that every year for six years, and had no idea what “pars on brown” was. It sounded like some regional slang term, but I couldn’t imagine how it related to snowmen and marriage.
I think I was into my teens before I discovered that it was actually “Parson Brown”, and of course by that time I had also learned that “parson” was another word for “minister”. Suddenly, it all made sense.
Los Angeles DJ Dick Whittinghill invited his listeners to send in “story records”–a short anecdote which was completed with song lyrics. (for example, the spider tells Miss Muffet, "You can keep the curds but give me “…All the Way” (whey)–from a hit song by Frank Sinatra; after speaking the first part Whittinghill would play the part of Sinatra’s record where he sang those words.)
In one story record using “The Christmas Song,” a listener sent in an anecdote about two guys going into a topless bar in wintertime and sitting too close to the fireplace. The bartender sang,…“Chestnuts [chest (breast) nuts] roasting on an open fire…” 
I thought Mary was a round young virgin.
Then you’ll hate “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen”, where they sing about “In Bethlehem, in Jewry, the Blessed Babe was born.”
Forgot this one: “Later on we’ll perspire as we sit by the fire / To face unafraid the plans that we made”
They’re your damn plans. Why are you afraid of them? And what’s this about facing them? Get up from the fire and *perform *those plans. Life is short and you gotta get on with it.