Lyrics |
The x in x-mas is a substitute crucifix for Christ No Christmas for John Quays The powders preach And the powders teach And when you find they can't reach There is no Christmas for junky He thinks he is More interesting Than the world I'm up high he sings Puts him in a world A packet of three-fives555A packet of those over there And 20 special offer cigars Found talking to the cigarette machine Into nicotinic acid Good king Wenceslaus, he looked out Silly bugger, he fell out He spits in the sky It falls in his eye He gets to sit in Talking to his kitten And talking about Frankie Lymon Tell me why is it so? Tell me why is it so? Out of place with the idle race He gets out of the room with his tune Although the skins are thin He knows its up to him To go out or stay in I'll stay in I'll stay in You Me X- Mas X- Mas There is no Christmas for junkies No girls No cause Just the traffic passing by Bye bye bye bye bye bye bye bye1,2,3,4 No X-mas for John Quays
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