- Голоса:
- Композиторы:
- Bob Rivers
- Dennis J Amero
- Brian Anthony Silva
- Теги:
- christmas
- ironman christmas
- saint nicholson
- xmas
- Смотри также:
Bob Rivers - Текст песни A Visit From St. Nicholson
Twasâ the fright before Christmas
No one upset me
With a big bowl of popcorn, watching TV
I stretched, gave a yawn, settled back in my chair
In hopes that St. Nicholson soon would be there
The children were lying awake without sleep
Theyâd seen all his movies; He gives them the creeps
Iâd cued up cuckooâs nest with my trusty remote
To the part where he had all the nuts in the boat
When out in the yard, there arose such a noise
I turned off the TV to see what it was
And what to my wandering eyes should approach
But the Los Angeles Lakers, and Pat Riley, their coach
The limo was racing, the team at its heels
Thatâs when I saw him: the man at the wheel
He ranted and cursed, and waved round his swizzle stick
And I knew in a second it must be Jack Nick
More rapid than the Celtics these Lakers they came
He screamed like a mad man and called them by name
âNow Magic, now Worthy, now Scott and Kareem
On Cooper, on Rambis and the rest of the teamâ
Down the chimney St. Nicholson came with a groan
Then he brushed off the suit and said, âHoney, Iâm homeâ
He was wearing a trench coat, with beer it was stained
And his shirt was clawed to shreds by Shirley Maclaine
He had a fat face and a flabby beer belly
From too many trips to the bar and the deli
He said, âIt's tough when an actor becomes fat and lazy
I only get calls to play weirdoâs and crazies
And middle-aged has-beenâs with washed up careers
But Iâll fix them all and play Santa this yearâ
And with that, he buried his head in the sack and said
âLets see what you get from your old buddy Jack
A hatchet for daddy", he reared back his head
To scare all those little buggers upstairs in bed
And a stiff drink for mommy in a nice tall glass
She could really use something to kill that bug up her chimney
With a wink of his eye and a twist of his face
He threw all the stockings into the fireplace
What could I do? What could I say?
What would I wear on my feet Christmas day?
I asked for a reason and turning his head
He looked straight at me and hereâs what he said
âWhy? You wanna know why?
Do you really wanna know why, pal? Iâll tell you why
Bob Rivers - A Visit From St. Nicholson - http://ru.motolyrics.com/bob-rivers/a-visit-from-st-nicholson-lyrics.html
When youâre out Christmas shopping
You know, doing your little Christmas things
With all your little Christmas friends
Spreading all that Christmas cheer
With those stupid Christmas songs?
Did you ever stop and think of
Picking up a little something for old Jack?
Did you ever stop to think of what Jack might like for Christmas?
You know Jack from the movies up on the big screen
Pouring his heart out, giving it everything heâs got
Day in and day out, just trying as hard as he can
To bring a tiny little bit of sunshine
Into your miserable little humdrum lives
Did you ever think of good ole Jack for a second?
No, not once, maybe old Jack just wasnât that good
Maybe, I wasnât good enough
In the postman always rings twice
Acting my guts out for you in that one
Cuckooâs nest, the shining, witches of fricking Eastwick
Prizziâs fricking honor, all for you, pal
Just to brighten things up for you
Not good enough though, is it?
No, you want me to brighten up the Christmas season too?
Isnât that what you want, pal?
Okay, let's make things real bright around here
What do you say we decorate the tree?
String up these pretty lights here
Oh, sheâs looking brighter already
What do you say we take this cute little angel
And ram her on the top branch, huh?
How about some gasoline for the whole thing?
I mean, let's make her just as bright as she can be
What do you say we light her up and chuck her
Through the old picture window here?
No point in having a tree as bright
As all that without giving the neighbors
A chance to see, donât you think?
There, arenât you glad oleâ Jack stopped by
The flames towered brightly in the cold, wintry sky
As he made for his limo and bade his goodbye
And an age may unfold air I fail to regret
That visit from St. Nicholson, which Iâd sooner forget
But I swear by the goose bumps upon my skin
That Iâll always remember that devilish grin
And his voice, crying out as he faded from sight
âMerry Christmas to all and I hope I never see you again
For as long as I live, for crying out loudâ