The First Song
The shaking awful
I'm shaking, asshole
In weather remote
The snowfall, oh
The snowing, the color
We recover from, oh
The Christmas-time coming
Hangover approaching
We've been drinking for months
This Christmas-time though, I'm coming over
Coming from the north
I'm already done
Wrapping up the presents I bought
Overcoat
Now take me anywhere, oh
We've suffered enough
Scary to leave
When they're leaving from work
They're cutting us off
Knowing not why
They're calling on the telephone
Roy, do I know anyone?
No, I don't know anyone