[Dm]I once knew two sisters whos[C]e name it was [F]Christmas
And one was named D[Dm]awn of course, the other [C]one was named [F]Eve
I w[Dm]onder if they grew up h[C]ating the s[F]eason
Of the g[F]ood will that lasts 'til the feast of St. Stephen
For th[F]at is the time to eat, dr[C]ink, and be m[F]erry
'Til the b[C]eer is all sp[F]illed and the wh[C]iskey has fl[F]owed
And the wh[F]ole family tree you negl[C]ected to b[F]ury
Are f[C]eeding their f[F]aces unt[C]il they expl[Dm]ode
[CHORUS]
There'll be l[Dm]aughter and t[C]ears over t[F]ia mari[C]as
Washed d[F]own with that drink made from g[C]irders
'Cause it's [Dm]all we've got l[C]eft as they dr[Dm]aw their last br[C]eath
And it's n[Dm]ice for the k[C]ids, as you f[Dm]inally get r[F]id of them
[Bb]In the St. Stephen's Day m[C]urde[F]rs
Uncle is garglin' a heart-breaking air
While the babe in his arms pulls out all that remains of his hair
And we're not drunk enough yet to dare criticize
The great big kipper tie he's about to baptize
His gin-flavoured whiskers and kisses of sherry
His best crimble shirt slung out over the shop
While the lights from the Christmas tree blow up the telly
His face closes in like an old cold pork chop
[CHORUS]
And the c[Dm]arcass of the b[C]east left [F]over from the f[C]east
May st[F]ill be found h[C]aunting the kitchen
And there's l[Dm]ife in it y[C]et, we may l[Dm]ive to regr[C]et
When the [F]ones that we poisoned stop tw[C]itchin'
[CHORUS]
And one was named D[Dm]awn of course, the other [C]one was named [F]Eve
I w[Dm]onder if they grew up h[C]ating the s[F]eason
Of the g[F]ood will that lasts 'til the feast of St. Stephen
For th[F]at is the time to eat, dr[C]ink, and be m[F]erry
'Til the b[C]eer is all sp[F]illed and the wh[C]iskey has fl[F]owed
And the wh[F]ole family tree you negl[C]ected to b[F]ury
Are f[C]eeding their f[F]aces unt[C]il they expl[Dm]ode
[CHORUS]
There'll be l[Dm]aughter and t[C]ears over t[F]ia mari[C]as
Washed d[F]own with that drink made from g[C]irders
'Cause it's [Dm]all we've got l[C]eft as they dr[Dm]aw their last br[C]eath
And it's n[Dm]ice for the k[C]ids, as you f[Dm]inally get r[F]id of them
[Bb]In the St. Stephen's Day m[C]urde[F]rs
Uncle is garglin' a heart-breaking air
While the babe in his arms pulls out all that remains of his hair
And we're not drunk enough yet to dare criticize
The great big kipper tie he's about to baptize
His gin-flavoured whiskers and kisses of sherry
His best crimble shirt slung out over the shop
While the lights from the Christmas tree blow up the telly
His face closes in like an old cold pork chop
[CHORUS]
And the c[Dm]arcass of the b[C]east left [F]over from the f[C]east
May st[F]ill be found h[C]aunting the kitchen
And there's l[Dm]ife in it y[C]et, we may l[Dm]ive to regr[C]et
When the [F]ones that we poisoned stop tw[C]itchin'
[CHORUS]
Used chords
More of Elvis Costello