Song | A Doe To a Deer |
Artist | Los Campesinos! |
Album | A Los Campesinos! Christmas |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
I came two weeks before Christ, | |
not tender nor mild, from the womb I came a-wailing “silent night! “, | |
but I’ll give you something to believe in. | |
You’ll see three ships sailing in. | |
I’m a frail evergreen, be a bauble hanging off of me, | |
pine needles a’pricking at your bare feet. | |
I’ll be anything you want of me, carrot nosed encased in snow. | |
An angel teetering atop a tree, vomiting from vertigo. | |
If you’ll be mine for Christmas: | |
a doe to a deer. | |
I’ll be home for Christmas, | |
and home will be here. | |
I’m three sheets to the wind, | |
but the wind is a sleet, and this sheet ain’t one of snow to play beneath, | |
and my nose is red, from the whiskey. | |
I’m Boxing Day game away. | |
Shirtless cherubs on the terrace, singing hymns, praying the saviour scores today, | |
and that he is one, but not the only. | |
If you’re looking for me, follow any star | |
’cause I will be around, no matter where you are. | |
I’m CCTV video late night on Christmas Eve, | |
window shopping in full Santa suit, | |
blind drunk on the high street. | |
Never got a gift, gold, frankincense or myrrh | |
and never would’ve cared if you could just have her. | |
I’m Christmas morning stumbling home up the cul-de-sac, | |
flanked by kids upon new bikes, | |
stabilizing my walk back. |
I came two weeks before Christ, | |
not tender nor mild, from the womb I came awailing " silent night! ", | |
but I' ll give you something to believe in. | |
You' ll see three ships sailing in. | |
I' m a frail evergreen, be a bauble hanging off of me, | |
pine needles a' pricking at your bare feet. | |
I' ll be anything you want of me, carrot nosed encased in snow. | |
An angel teetering atop a tree, vomiting from vertigo. | |
If you' ll be mine for Christmas: | |
a doe to a deer. | |
I' ll be home for Christmas, | |
and home will be here. | |
I' m three sheets to the wind, | |
but the wind is a sleet, and this sheet ain' t one of snow to play beneath, | |
and my nose is red, from the whiskey. | |
I' m Boxing Day game away. | |
Shirtless cherubs on the terrace, singing hymns, praying the saviour scores today, | |
and that he is one, but not the only. | |
If you' re looking for me, follow any star | |
' cause I will be around, no matter where you are. | |
I' m CCTV video late night on Christmas Eve, | |
window shopping in full Santa suit, | |
blind drunk on the high street. | |
Never got a gift, gold, frankincense or myrrh | |
and never would' ve cared if you could just have her. | |
I' m Christmas morning stumbling home up the culdesac, | |
flanked by kids upon new bikes, | |
stabilizing my walk back. |
I came two weeks before Christ, | |
not tender nor mild, from the womb I came awailing " silent night! ", | |
but I' ll give you something to believe in. | |
You' ll see three ships sailing in. | |
I' m a frail evergreen, be a bauble hanging off of me, | |
pine needles a' pricking at your bare feet. | |
I' ll be anything you want of me, carrot nosed encased in snow. | |
An angel teetering atop a tree, vomiting from vertigo. | |
If you' ll be mine for Christmas: | |
a doe to a deer. | |
I' ll be home for Christmas, | |
and home will be here. | |
I' m three sheets to the wind, | |
but the wind is a sleet, and this sheet ain' t one of snow to play beneath, | |
and my nose is red, from the whiskey. | |
I' m Boxing Day game away. | |
Shirtless cherubs on the terrace, singing hymns, praying the saviour scores today, | |
and that he is one, but not the only. | |
If you' re looking for me, follow any star | |
' cause I will be around, no matter where you are. | |
I' m CCTV video late night on Christmas Eve, | |
window shopping in full Santa suit, | |
blind drunk on the high street. | |
Never got a gift, gold, frankincense or myrrh | |
and never would' ve cared if you could just have her. | |
I' m Christmas morning stumbling home up the culdesac, | |
flanked by kids upon new bikes, | |
stabilizing my walk back. |