Christmas Song

Well, it is not the time, but why not?
[and to my brown eye girl, it does not need to be Christmas, whatever the cause, you can come home to find me and your mum waiting for you.]


Lyrics

I'm looking forward to Christmas
It's sentimental I know, but I just really like it
I'm, I'm hardly religious
I'd rather break bread with Dawkins than Desmond Tutu to be honest
And yes I have all of the usual objections to consumerism
The commercialisation of an ancient religion
And the western-isation of a dead Palestinian
Press-ganged into selling PlayStations and beer
But I still really like it.

I, I really like Christmas
Though I'm not expecting a visit from Jesus
I'll be seeing my dad
My brother and sisters, my gran and my mum
They'll be drinking white wine in the sun
I'll be seeing my dad
My sisters and brother, my gran and my mum
We'll be drinking white wine in the sun.

I don't go for ancient wisdom
I don't believe just 'cause ideas are tenacious it means that they're worthy
I get freaked out by churches
Some of the hymns that they sing have nice chords
But the lyrics are dodgy
And yes I have all of the usual objections to the mis-education of children forced into a cult institution
And taughted to externalise blame
And to feel ashamed
And to judge things as plain right and wrong
But I quite like the songs.

I'm not expecting big presents
The old combination of socks, jocks and chocolate is just fine by me.

'Cause I'll be seeing my dad
My brother and sisters, my gran and my mum
They'll be drinking white wine in the sun
I'll be seeing my dad
My sisters and brothers, my gran and my mum
They'll be drinking white wine in the sun.

And you my baby girl
My jetlagged infant daughter
You'll be handed round the room
Like a puppy at a primary school
And you're too young to know
But you will learn yourself one day
That wherever you are and whatever you face
These are the people who'll make you feel safe in this world
My sweet blue-eyed girl

And if my baby girl
When you're twenty-one or thirty-one
And Christmas comes around
And you find yourself nine thousand miles from home
You'll know whatever comes
Your brother and sister, and me and your mum
Will be waiting for you in the sun
Girl, when Christmas comes
Your brothers and sisters, your aunts and your uncles
Your grandparents, cousins, and me and your mum
Will be drinking white wine in the sun
We'll be waiting for you in the sun
Baby, whenever you come
We'll be drinking white wine in the sun
Waiting.

I, I really like Christmas
It's sentimental I know.