Royalty Free Lyrics “What Your Favorite Christmas Movie Says About You”

I put more thought than work into this one. Seemed like a clear, writes-itself conceit to me. Many of these criticisms are my own, others just fit the rhyme scheme.

What Your Favorite Christmas Movie Says About You

The holiday seasons rolling around again
And you are going to watch 'Charlie Brown'... again,
Then 'Olive', 'Frosty', "Grinch', 'Rudolph', 'Mickey'--yes sir--
'A Year Without Santa Claus' to see Heat Miser.
You're in a rut each December for what to watch,
And your tradition says about you--such a lot.

If 'Miracle' is your go-to, you're old as dirt.
'Wonderful Life' is soothing for pitiful hurt.
'Chronicles' means you're queer for leather bear 'zaddies.
'The Grinch Who Stole' works best for who partake of weed.

The Hallmark Channel left on means you have no life.
'Love Actually' excuses your adultery.
'A Christmas Carol' unifies the ninety-nine,
Unless it has Muppets, then just enjoy--it's fine.

'Christmas Story' appeals to haters and riffraff.
But, fans of 'Home Alone' might be sociopaths.
'Krampus' and other horror means you hate Christmas.
'Jingle Jangle'/'Spirited' have woke agendas.

'Vacation' cheers the downtrodden's vicious revenge.
'Die Hard' fans want all to know they're Xmas-deranged.
'Elf' is (a) millennial's anthem to not grow up.
'Ernest Saves Christmas' did that first... without throw up.

The holiday lineup has come and gone again
And you have stayed true to all your old traditions.
It's not like anything new is going to please,
So leave your personality in the deep freeze.
Or, if you want to really get a bellyful,
Hie to the cineplex for the Oscar hopefuls.

Okay, there are hundreds of Christmas movies. Not going to watch/judge ’em all. And the TV specials are a whole ‘nother category. I can see a rollicking pop tune to underly this. Some rock? Perhaps.

Royalty Free Lyrics “Writing a Christmas Song Like No Other”

I must be getting tired, so i’m writing about writing. I thought that was funny in my youth, writing an essay about writing an essay. And that was before meta was a thing. Still, write what you know. I guess i know a little about songwriting by this point.

Writing a Christmas Song Like No Other

I think I'll write a number one - Christmas song.
I am, not to be too boastful - an artiste.
I'm sure there's room for 'nother one - can't go wrong.
Just come up with (an) original - masterpiece. 

I got ideas about J. Christ - all been done.
Or maybe Santa Claus hisself - not sure what.
I might get some ideas 'bout toys - not a one.
Never thought it'd be this bad, well - shut my butt.

I'm going 'bout this the wrong way - wait a sec.
Got to let the spirits guide me - to that place.
Read the cards and watched the movies - what the heck.
They're all cliched and all drivelly - commonplace.

Some tunes complaining 'bout the snow - all been done. 
An animal besides hippos? - not sure what.
Some new thoughts about mistletoe? - not a one.
Elves... and tree lots... and UFOs? - shut my butt.

I'll write the first thing in my heart - improvise.
The Grinch has died... he's now Asian - not so great.
Three dinosaurs... followed a star - word to (the) wise:
Don't force your imagination - guess I'll wait.

Guess I'll sing old songs again - so rightly.
Guess I saw them all along - all wrongly.
I'll not write new verse or refrain... or maybe,
I'll write a song about writing... a song... hey....

Not exactly stream of cocoa-ness, but i’ve certainly beheld worse (published). Some start-and-stop pop music, perhaps. Indie, anyway.

Royalty Free Lyrics “Shake That Present”

The popular refrain at the in-laws’ (long ago) was Whuddyaget-Whuddyaget-Whuddyaget? But there was always that one spoil sport who would hold up a wrapped box, cock his head to one side, and announce: ‘shaver’ or ‘pajama set’ or ‘garden gnome’ or whatever. Generally speaking, he was right. Made me wonder how often other families had such gifted prognosticators, and how much the ancient art of childhood snooping has been kept alive.

Shake That Present

All under the tree
Where we all can see
Colors and stripes
Can we classify?

Shake it, Don't Break it,
Weigh it, X-Ray it,
Measure it, Treasure it.
Guess wrong and you'll look like shit.

Now what could it be?
You'll guess easily
The size and the shape
Just heft it for weight.


I can't wait to open
You know what I'm hopin'
The gift of my dreams
I can see through the seams!


I've opened that present
It's not what I wanted
Are you sure that's mine?
I'll check one more time!


Simple lines for a simple concept. I stand by (most of) it. Driving rhythm (sorta), so–metal. Or at least hard blues. Gotta go.

Royalty Free Lyrics “Why Can’t I Remember My Childhood Christmases?”

Still getting personal for my original songs. But, as the title suggests, this is autobiographical-ish. I don’t dwell much on the past, and can barely remember what i was doing yesterday… So let’s celebrate having nothing much to say!

Why Can’t I Remember My Childhood Christmases?

From Dylan Thomas to Jean Shepherd
Childhood memories roost on ol' Christmas!
But these are obtuse caricatures
Colored outside the lines with (a) warped paintbrush.

I can't remember Christmas at four--
Not what i got or what i even wore. 
There may have been a Fred Flinstone car...
My memories are all uncalled for.

The holidays are for the kids-sure!
With their wish lists and Santa's doubled.
It helps them rise up, though immature
And keeps them out of Winter's troubles.

I can't remember Christmas at eight--
How did i sing or pray or cel'brate?
Did i say thank you, or litigate?
I'm sure i ate too many chocolates.

So then they grow up out of Christmas:
Those 'tweens who swear and sin without (a) blush.
These young adults who bear no excuse
For naughtiness learned from Church and Claus.

I can remember Christmas for my child,
When he was docile or in denial.
I always had one more gift for (the) pile;
He won't recall, but it was worthwhile.

Oh, that got a bit touchy-feely. No regrets, but it did end up with a bit of a message. Shall we try some gospel or soul? No? I guess that’d be weird. Kid music?

Royalty Free Lyrics “A Christmas Miracle?”

When pushed, i ‘ll describe myself as spiritual. But church cured me of religion. Each little old lady (or man) is their own Jehovah, looking you up and judging you down. And the kids band into exclusive cliques that don’t want no part of you. So i can get a little sacrosanct with your bitter little host.

A Christmas Miracle?

A baby was born without a father or room...
Is that a miracle? A Christmas miracle?
Then what about newborns surviving Dumpster tombs?
Is each a Jesus Christ? At even half the price?

I wanna believe what i can't even see,
So touch now my eyes with Your epiphanies;
Know me and show me my Galilee
And i will kneel down in Your archdiocese. 

I pushed all the buttons in the elevator...
Is that a miracle? A Christmas miracle?
I dined well and dashed pell mell past the headwaiter...
It was no loaves and fish! Nor from some divine wish!

It smells six-six-six to believe tricks;
I'll see your Scrooge turned and raise you (a) Fezziwig;
See through spirits... but Watson & Crick...
Isn't your cross just another megalith?

I fell in and was loved by the perfect woman...
Was that a miracle? A holy miracle?
I never was worthy but rose to the romance...
Is love the true zenith? Why we strive for the myth?

Life is a jumble, but i'll give it a tumble:
'Good is God and bad is us'--don't be a dumbbell!
I rejoice what I got--no mumbles--
But drop the black and white--what would Jesus fumble?

This feels like the refrain is the verse, and vice verses… but I do like some of the wordplay and provocation. Some of it is still too obtuse though. I may have to revisit this. Lively folk pop? Or just garage punk?

Royalty Free Lyrics “Eve or X: What Time is Christmas?”

You pen enough of these songs, you gotta get personal and pull from your past. Write what you know or whatever. So, just a peek behind the curtains…

Eve or X: What Time is Christmas?

Christmas is that time of YEAR, 
It's part of the hol'day SEASON.
I guess it's on TWELVE TWENTY-FIVE,
But let's pinpoint the right MOMENT.

'Cuz... We went to my Dad's family on (the) Eve:
Stuffed shirts; exotic, funny smells.
We went to my Mom's folks' on Xmas Day:
So many kids and mean uncles.
...but when was Christmas?

I know the kids get impatient,
They cannot wait for Santa Claus.
So maybe offer one present,
To calm them down to sleep for hours.

But those old in-laws need it all:
They want the pack for that day off,
So it's the Eve that's warm and small
The next day is for the blowout. 


But here's the thing with chim-a-neys:
They open once for that birthDAY,
So when dawn turns to day from eve 
You'll no longer anticipate.

Let's herd the herd into the car
AFTER they've savaged all Kringle's.
We'll stretch the holiday so far
Not just a single jingle mingle.

So...  Go to your Dad's family on (the) Eve,
Or business friends who wish you well,
And then to your Mom's folks' on Xmas Day.
Or neighbors blasting decibels
...and all'll be Christmas.

Not sure here. I did want to feature the dilemma of when to open gifts: the night before or the morning of? But i got hung up on my family. Setting this to a folk music screed is a possibility.

Royalty Free Lyrics “I Saw Santa (And I’ll Never be the Same)”

Piggybacking off that last song, i took the peeking at Santa trope and folded in my pet theories about time-traveling/space-bending ’round the world dimension tripping. THAT’s how he does it, you know.

I Saw Santa (And I’ll Never be the Same)

It started when Garth told me no--There ain't no Santa Claus.
So I said that's brag'docio-- Just hold now your applause.
I'll get the proof tonight, you dog--And bet you all my dough.
T'show y'all from my cold Yule log... Autograph or photo?

Santa Claus, Kris Kringle
I'll show 'em all
Per Noel, Old Fellow
Now heed my call

I'd lain in wait for most the night--And not one mouse stirring.
But then... the most amazing sight! Though my eyes were blurring.
A thrilling sound as if sonic--The temp'rature went white.
Totally not being ironic--But not sure what to write.

Santa Claus, Kris Kringle
I'll show 'em all
Per Noel, Old Fellow
I'm in your thrall

Straight on he's everywhere at once--sideways a vast rainbow.
My mind can't conceive this affront--Not to senses or brow.
It must be how he does't all now--I guess I've been a fool
To trap him trideimensionally... I see string theory loops....

Santa Claus, Kris Kringle
I'll show 'em all
Per Noel, Old Fellow
I feel so small

Kudos if you picked up on the Firesign Theater allusion. The forced meter, i think, helps the synesthesia. Prog rock, perhaps? (Been listening to Alan Parsons Project, haven’t it?)

Royalty Free Lyrics “Black Mirror Christmas”

This idea has been bouncing around in my head for a while. It’s like a little story. But, i could never tell if it’s too subtextual or too obvi.

Black Mirror Christmas

I'm gonna peek at Santa Claus, I am
I even stayed up all night--1 A.M.!
I hid myself behind the daveno
Until I heard a sound I didn't know...

Christmases they come and go,
But I remember this one so,
Sure as shootin', Honest Joe,
Or was it such a long ago?

I heard this humming, and some mumbling too
So I looked out this longish black window
And saw this old, sad man look right at me;
I had to wave and he waved just like me.


Then there's this thump from up the stairs
And voices made me so confused and scared:
"Grampa has left his room!" "Go find him now!"
"I see him waving at his reflection"


Not exactly a streaming show reference, then. More literal. Should i pull back on the hints, though?

Royalty Free Lyrics “Why’d I Ask for a Bike?”

I don’t see a lot of rhymes for ‘bike,’ but it see i as a pinnacle gift for kids from the ’50s, ’60s, and whatnot. I certainly had a bike and treasured it, except when i was showing off ‘crashing’ it for fun. But, one thing always bothered me about this request… [see punchline of the song].

Why’d I Ask for a Bike?

I heard in a song, a song that I like
When Christmas Time comes, ask for a bike.
I'm not very old, golly, just a tike,
So I set up my parents for a sly filial psyche.

A Stingray with sissy bars and banana seat
(Or) a Schwinn--purple gloss!--would be pretty neat!
No Hot Wheel for me, that's so obsolete.
I want independence to strut down the street!

So I left the Sears catalog open to the page
Where auto assembly parts were all the rage.
I laid around snacking, excercising presaged,
Demanding A Skateboard this punk would assuage.


I tell you what--it worked, like, of course
That morning that package--as big as a horse!
I took that bike out so we could explore,
But fell five times in the ice and the snow!


Yeah, i do live an a moderate climate and we rarely have white Christmases. But is a bicycle ideal cold-weather fun? It’s like asking for bathing trunks for the holidays. But i see this as kidsong (the fancy vocabulary makes that funnier), although you could default to bluegrass. [Yeah, i know i whiffed the last line of rhyme, but that dissonance–to me–makes it more dramatic. So there.]

Royalty Free Lyrics “ChristmaSutra”

The contrast of the secular and carnal against the spiritual mysticism of the High Holy Days can be a hoot. Naughtiness and nastiness in the age of the internet, however, is hardly a glimpse of stocking. So let’s hearken back to the glory days of porn with some antique misogynistic observations. Okay, boomer?


(spoken under the singing)
And the signs of a woman manifesting her Christmas Spirit are these:
She sings loud for all to hear
She decorates behind the tree
She sometimes bends low to inspect the price tag, and does not manifest any surprise

Suvarnanabha, The Embrace of Greed:
When on the occasion of making lists
One presses upon the other a need,
It will be determined what's hers or his.

Babhravya, The Wrapping of Gifts for All:
When (a) woman in a lonely place bends down
And pierces, as it were, a paper roll,
The man, in turn, will choose the right ribbon.

(spoken under the singing)
Now the means of increasing holiday joy are as follows:
A man obtains joy partaking of the Tom and Jerry
The sauce of the honey-baked ham
According to ancient authors, if a man spends time with Swiss Colony Beef Logs, he will be filled with holiday joy

Kshiraniraka, Cream and Rum Eggnog:
When man and woman--very much in love--
Would like to get away from bills, kids, dogs,
They climb onto some drinks and laugh thereof.

Tila-Tandulaka, Combining Voices:
When carolers do stand upon a porch
And raise their harmony most boisterous,
Their union will become seamless henceforth.

(spoken under the singing)
The ways of enlarging the budget (lingam) must now be related:
When a man wishes to enlarge his budget, he should hire on to certain gigs 
And after running them for ten nights, he should run them more
The enlargement of the budget is also effected by returning or regifting
Inferior items from previous years

Vrikshadhirudaka, Choosing a Tree:
When a woman, having put her foot down,
Insists on height, but not one more rupee,
A man must pull Noble out of the ground.

Jataveshtitaka, Housing In-laws:
When a woman, clinging to her Father,
Bends his ear with What a family was--
It's time to learn with whom she would rather.

Okay, let’s cut that out–that’s too close to cultural appropriation. Did some reading from The Gutenberg Project of the original, and also trotted out a coffee table sex book i bought in the ‘Eighties… but, really whitewashed that. To really put this over the top, then: some sitar, like the Beatles did in their wane.