Fairytale Of New York
(The Pogues – Songwriter: Jem Finer / Shane Patrick Lysaght Macgowan © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc)
Shane:
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"
I turned my face away
And dreamed about you
Got on a lucky one
Came in 18 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
Kirsty:
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
Shane:
You were pretty, Queen of New York City
When the band finished playing
They howled out for more
Kirsty:
Sinatra was swinging, all the drunks they were singing
We kissed on a corner then danced through the night
Beide:
The boys of the NYPD choir
Were singing "Galway Bay"
And the bells were ringing out
For Christmas day
Kirsty:
You′re a bum, you're a punk
Shane:
You′re an old slut on junk
Lying there almost dead on a drip in that bed
Kirsty:
You scumbag, you maggot
You cheap lousy faggot
Happy Christmas your arse
I pray God it's our last
Beide:
The boys of the NYPD choir
Still singing "Galway Bay"
And the bells were ringing out
For Christmas day
Shane:
I could have been someone
Kirsty:
Well, so could anyone
You took my dreams from me
When I first found you
Shane:
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
Beide:
The boys of the NYPD choir
Still singing "Galway Bay"
And the bells are ringing out
For Christmas day