Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Christmas at Nate's

I'm sure you'd be suprised to know that music is important to Dr Who and I. Since 1997 we've marked the Christmas season with a traditional collection of Christmas songs performed by the Cheiftans and several guest singers. On it can befond everything from traditional Irish Jigs to, Oh Come All Ye Faithful, to Jackson Brown's Rebel Jesus. There is an angelic performance of Oh Holy Night that I've never heard rivaled... and this one particular gem that inspired me to blog today... Elvis Costello's "St Stevens Day Murders".

I don't know if you've ever heard this song or not... but the song is so lyricly brilliant I couldn't help but share it. See for yourself... see if doesn't describe a holiday gathering of extended family to near perfection.

I knew of two sisters whose name it was Christmas,
And one was named Dawn of course, the other one was named Eve.
I wonder if they grew up hating the season,
The good will that lasts til the Feast of St. Stephen
For that is the time to eat, drink, and be merry,
Til the beer is all spilled and the whiskey has flowed.
And the whole family tree you neglected to bury,
Are feeding their faces until they explode.

There'll be laughter and tears over Tia Marias,
Mixed up with that drink made from girders.
’Cause it's all we've got left as they draw their last breath,
Ah, it's nice for the kids, as you finally get rid of them,
In the St Stephen's Day Murders.

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.
With his gin-flavoured whiskers and kisses of sherry,
His best Chrimbo 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.

And the carcass of the beast left over from the feast,
May still be found haunting the kitchen.
And there's life in it yet, we may live to regret,
When the ones that we poisoned stop twitchin'.

There'll be laughter and tears over Tia Marias,
Mixed up with that drink made from girders.
’Cause it's all we've got left as they draw their last breath,
Ah, it's nice for the kids, as you finally get rid of them,
In the St Stephen's Day Murders.

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