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| Pogues If I Should Fall From Grace With God Fairytale Of New York It was Christmas Eve babe In the drunk tank An old man said to me, won't see another one And then he sang a song The Rare Old Mountain Dew And I turned my face away And dreamed about you Got on a lucky one Came in eighteen to one I've got a feeling This year's for me and you So happy Christmas I love you baby I can see a better time When all our dreams come true They've got cars Big as bars They've got rivers of gold But the wind goes right through you It's no place for the old When you first took my hand On a cold Christmas Eve You promised me Broadway was waiting for me You were handsome You were pretty Queen of New York City When the band finished playing They howled out for more Sinatra was swinging All the drunks they were singing We kissed on the corner Then danced through the night The boys of the NYPD choir Were singing 'Galway Bay' And the bells were ringing Out for Christmas day You're a bum You're a punk You're an old slut on junk Living there almost dead on a drip In that bed You scum bag You maggot You cheap lousy faggot Happy Christmas your arse I pray God It's our last I could have been someone So could anyone You took my dreams From me when I first found you I kept them with me babe I put them with my own Can't make it all alone I've built my dreams around you |
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