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It was Christmas Eve, babe, in the drunk tank |
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An old man said, "Son, I won't see another one" |
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And then he sang a song, a rare old mountain tune |
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I turned my eyes away, and I thought about you |
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I got on a lucky one, came in at 18/1 |
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I've got a feeling this year's for me and you |
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So Happy Christmas, I love you baby |
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There's going to be good times |
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When all our dreams come true. |
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They've got cars big as bars |
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They've got rivers of gold |
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But the wind blows right through you |
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It's no place for the old |
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When I first took your hand on a cold Christmas Eve |
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I told you that Broadway was waiting for me. |
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You were handsome and pretty, queen of New York city |
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When the band finished playing, the crowd howled for more |
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Sinatra was swinging, and the crowd they were singing |
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We kissed on the corner and danced round the floor. |
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And the boys from the New York police choir were singin' Galway Bay |
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And the bells were ringin' out on Christmas Day |
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I could have been someone and so could anyone |
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I took my dreams from you when I first met you |
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I kept them with me, babe, and put them with my own |
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I can't make it all alone |
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I've built my dreams around you. |
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You're a bum you're a punk you're an aul hoor on junk |
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Lyin' there on the drip nearly dead in the bed |
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You scumbag you maggot you cheap lousy faggot |
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Happy Christmas me arse, I would rather be dead... |
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And the boys from the New York police choir were singin' Galway Bay |
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And the bells were ringin' out on Christmas Day |
