Watching Handy Andy on the box one Christmas Eve
I decided to do up my old front room
Knock down some walls paint the floor boards
Take away the crumbling chimney breast
I removed the first brick and exposed the label of an old dusty brandy bottle
Shone my torch inside and looked in the eye of a stale mince pie
A ragged red suit and bone bare knees
The skeletal remains of St Nicholas, Santa Claus
I cried:
Oh my God Father Christmas does exist
He was here and getting pissed and now he’s dead
After years of wondering is it fiction is it truth, here’s the final proof
Yes he’s dead
I went down the offy, bought bottle of Brandy, and a pack of mince pies
And took ‘em home, passed the bottle through the hole put it in his hand opened the pies and put one in the other hand
bricked up the chimney breast and covered the mess with an advent calender
Sat down in my armchair, switched on the remote, cleared my throat, began a toast
Dear Daddy Christmas your secret’s safe with me.
It’s your best kept secret and now it’s mine
credits
from Daddy Christmas,
released December 23, 2014
Carter / Bootle / Morrison
supported by 4 fans who also own “A Daddy Christmas Eve”
How do you do it, Stephen? Another soul saving album just in time for Christmas and with the right kind of vibes, there isn’t a single step gone wrong here and I love the irony in the lyrics juxtaposed against the beautiful music, typical Babybird! While Corona Christmas is an absolute favourite, ‘another toxic family Christmas’ is my favourite because this is typical Babybird: you must listen to the lyrics before getting too comfortable with the music! Awesome album, Merry Christmas! Samrat Mitra
supported by 4 fans who also own “A Daddy Christmas Eve”
In Stephen Jones and his alter egos, I have found a balm, a tonic that sees off the spiritual weariness and depression of a ruined idealism. Mr. Jones is a light in the darkness for all of us in that he hates the world just a little bit more than we do. shanghaicam