Christmas is Pain
© 1998 Watunes (BMI)
(From Comic Sutra - Live at Luna Park; re-released on PeaceNick)
There's a turkey a gobblin' out in the yard
Now he's gutted and stuffed and he's basted and charred
And your father is whistlin' and washin' the blood down the drain
Christmas is pain
There's a crowd on the hillside with hatchets and saws
With a keen disregard for the forestry laws
And they happily hum while the stumps slowly bleed in the rain
Christmas is pain
And the stockings are hung by the chimney with care
As if anyone in their right mind would hang 'em there
And some tired old crooner is croakin' out carols again
Christmas is pain
And you wait for an hour to see Santa Claus
And he's covered with velveteen, bourbon and gauze
And he pinches your mother and she can't find the words to explain
Christmas is pain
And the hungry are hungering on Hunger Street
While the people on Plenty Street . . . eat
And you punctured the roof of your mouth on a sharp candy cane
Christmas is pain
And all the good cheer is just Madison Ave..news
And all the best Christmas songs were written by Jews
And the eight tiny reindeer have left an embarrassing stain
Christmas is pain
And two-thirds of the world doesn't give half a damn
And the rest are all bloated on marshmallowed yams
And if Jesus was here, he'd be sent to the back of the train
Christmas is pain
And they double the price of whatever you need
Singin', "I pledge allegiance to corporate greed"
And you're forced to spend several hours conversing with your old Aunt Lorraine
who's insane
with a brain on a plane to Spain
where the main stays rainly in the flat terrain
Christmas is pain