Hey everyone. This isn't a solo work, but instead a project that I did with friends at Soundskills, the nearby creative place where I lend my music and art.

The concept of this song came from Jason Beardsworth, who said 'why don't we write "another fucking Christmas song"?' And so it all flowed from there. We spent four consecutive Mondays, including this one, recording it -- and on our last session, we worked overtime.

I came up with a rather cliché-sounding melody and set of chords, and was very much inspired by Fascinating Aïda in singing the verses. I originally sang the lyrics NSFW, but since this is going to be played back at Soundskills' open mic on Thursday the 21st, where there are going to be kids, Jason used his editing magic (read: censor's scissors) to take some bits out. Use your imagination for the missing words, will ya?

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Troisnyx: Composition / Lyrics / Vocals / Keyboard / Percussion
Jason Beardsworth: Concept / Bass Guitar / Production
Greg Slater: Acoustic Guitar / Lyrics
Seán Walker: Lyrics

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I
It's that time of year again
when you're hearing holiday songs,
sickening everyone to death
on the radio all day long,
with unnecessary jingle bells
and sparkles everywhere.
If I hear Mariah Carey's voice again,
I'll slit my wrists, I swear!

Seems they've got to write another song
for the next big popstar brat,
with all looks and no skill
and the vocal range of a gnat;
then they pass it through ol' Autotune
till they sound like the talking clock.
I swear, whoever insists on doing this
needs a firebrand up their ----!

CHORUS:
So peace to all men of good will,
but when it all goes so badly wrong,
at least we've got another flippin' Christmas song.

II
You start receiving Christmas cards
with robins, snow and doves;
more like "Ambiguous Winter Holiday
with Annoying Shiny Stuff."
Decorations up in September,
yes, a month before Halloween!
They put the lights up in October!
It's a pain in the ------- spleen!
(Flip, mun, give me strength!)

So you gather round the town square
to see the lights turned on,
but then half the lights die out again.
But this is Preston, let's move on;
you still hope for a Christmas market
or the ice rink of years past,
but the council "can't afford it,"
so for Christmas we rank dead last!

III
So the primary school across the road
is expecting Santa Claus,
but the dear head teacher's search for him
is nothing more than a lost cause;
then she throws her hands up in the air,
and she says, "I must insist,
could you please find me a Santa
who's not on the sex offenders' list?!"

Midnight Mass is seven-thirty;
any later is too late
cause you discover, to your horror,
the vicar's drunk by half past eight:
see, the people in the pews are worse--
you just can't get them to sit
in their places, nice and quietly
because they're drunk out of their five wits!

IV
Then when Christmas morning comes by,
you can't get a moment's rest,
for you've got the bloody in-laws,
and the notorious family pests.
Grandpa's fiddling with your wife again,
so you'd better hurry! quick!
Now your Christmas lunch is beyond repair
'cause he can't put away his ----!

"Oh at last," you think, "it's Boxing Day,
and I'll rest my weary head."
But you hear the children's tantrums,
'cause the toy batteries are dead;
so you walk down to the Tesco's,
pelted by the freezing rain,
but the opening hours read twelve o'clock.
So you're out in the cold again!

V
In a few days it'll be New Year's Day.
What an inauspicious start,
'cause you've spent the last twelve hours in bed
like a miserable old fart.
You have never learned your lesson,
you went partying in the streets.
But now, there's the stench of alcohol
and vomit on your sheets!
(You wot? ---- Oh dear...)

You have found yourself in a police cell,
things have gone so badly wrong,
and you wonder how you got there,
but not for very long:
just two cells away from you, oh yeah,
things are ugly as can be:
it's your bloody horny grandpa
gesturing at the WPC!!