Strange Christmas

Christmas time is here
I can use my hands
to lift another shovel-full
Clear the winter land
Whistle while you work
Smoke up your machines
Take away the ancient wood
replace them with a hole
There’s nothing unacceptable to…

Oh, you are a strange people
Your heads are filled with cork
You are so strange
Hold your sugar thoughts
There’s reindeer on the roof
Half their blood is anti-freeze
Above their head are points
Someone take their burdens down

Hey, the self-proclaimed keeper
I’ve watched you from afar
There’s nothing in your cave
You are the classic case
On Christmas I compare
You win the monkey prize
You are a strange people
Your heads are filled with cork
You are so strange

Holiday

It’s a curse to hear the ringing of a bell
and I am cursed to my mettle, I’m in hell
I can’t forget there is acid in the clouds
I can’t abide your face, it’s smiling so loud

Holiday
You can pucker your lips on this holiday
You can banish the ships of this malcontent

I run away from your whistle and I hide away
I tuck myself into the marrow of a grave

Holiday
You can toast your toast on this holiday
You can get the most of your holiday
You can pucker your lips on this holiday
You can banish the ships of this malcontent
This malcontent

Martha’s Christmas

There’s a plum for Santa’s head
There’s a kiwi for his sled
You can see a world of ideas
We wait breathless for her show
It’s on Christmas time, you know
You can find a world of ideas

Oh-oh, we were born without the message
That our holidays can be custom
And our hands can be as sacred as hers
Just as sacred

She takes a stencil to some cream
She makes feather evergreens
She rolls with the appropriate theme
She makes sugar into string
She rigs up everything
You can find her full of ideas

Oh-oh, she’s a yuppie and she’s clever
And I look like I’ve got stigmata
I will follow her forever and ever and forever and ever and forever

Like in the testament of old
She’s a character so bold
She entertains the anti-Christ
But that’s water ‘neath the bridge
There’s no stain on her image
You can find a world of ideas

Oh-oh, we were born without the message
That our holidays can be custom
And our hands can be as sacred as hers
Just as sacred as hers, just as sacred as hers
Just as sacred

Vital Signs

White sheets descend on fields I’ve known
Each country mile and block of stone
My eyes confound the frosted lens
My hand ignores the fossil friend
Saints preserved nothing here
Their vital signs are dry as bones

Take the sacred bones
Let’s wire them up
Get some doctor’s books
Do you know a Christmas dance?

Six weak legs will force themselves
Six blind ears will strain to hear
Electric lights the size of pins
They blink and stand on webs of ice
Wanderers on sea of coal
will converge, the dry old bones

Take the sacred bones
Let’s wire them up
Get some doctor’s stands
Do you know the Christmas waltz?

Saints preserved nothing here
They make me feel their dry old bones

Pagan Christmas

You’re a standing invitation
You’re a complete stranger at the top of the list
You’re just like a relation
You’ll be right there with us while we’re tearing away at our gifts
And you’ll stand there gleaming with a ton of decorations

You’re not very different
In a couple of minutes I’ll be heating you up
You’re not very different
In a couple of hours I’ll be serving you up on a plate
And you’ll sit there gleaming with a ton of trimmings at your side

Have yourself a Merry Pagan Christmas Sacrifice

You weren’t very crucial
Anyone could’ve done it if they fit into your shoes
You weren’t very crucial
Anyone could’ve stood in for the human sacrifice
Anyone could be as tortured
Hanging there as tortured meat set in the sun to dry

Have yourself a Merry Pagan Christmas Sacrifice

Merry Christmas, Jane (Part 1)

You take some particle board and you submerge it
You carve it out and you, you paint it

Merry Christmas, little Jane
Santa missed you again
but Jesus knows you by name
Jesus knows you, little Jane
and He’s doing what He can
He tries to help you
Oh, Jane

He says whatever He can to stop your crying
He borrows from books that He just doesn’t believe in
He’d use any tool at His disposal
He’d try anything, and He don’t mind lying

You take a metal pipe and you, you heat it
You stretch it out and you, you twist it

Merry Christmas, little Jane
Daddy misplaced your friends
but Jesus knows you by name
Jesus knows you, little Jane
and He’s doing what He can
Tries to help you
Oh, Jane

Merry Christmas, Tarzan

And for Christmas, Great White Hunter
May you get all you deserve
May you collect up from the jungle
A blow to your great nerve

And for Christmas, Great White Hunter
May your triggers be in vain
May the water of the jungle
Warp your great white aim

May you never find our Tarzan
taking gratuities
Or leading out a party
tying baby goats to trees
Let’s keep our Christmas secret
And let the pagans be

And for Christmas, little Cheetah
May you keep your Anglo friend
May you share the tropical presents
And beware all other white men

May you never find our Tarzan
has succumbed to gravity
Or been rolling over creatures
with Rhodes’ propensity
Hide the nightmare of white Christmas
And leave the jungle be

Wrap Up World War I

It’s Christmas time
and I can be warm
A barbarian sings of peace
I can be moved

On the front
all is quiet
A Bavarian’s dropped his flag
I can relax

The flag is down
My gun is down
and I have the courage to climb out
If we are done
the war is done
On Christmas, the Great War is done
On Christmas, we wrap up World War I

Up the chain
all is warm
The designers are in their homes
I can mock them

The flag is down
My gun is down
and I have the courage to climb out
If we are done
the war is done
On Christmas, the Great War is done
On Christmas, we wrap up World War I
On Christmas, we wrap up World War I

Same Old Same Old

It’s the same ol’, same ol’
And I loathe it

I threw it out
And I caught it
I gave it up long ago
And I kept it
So what?
It’s just the definition that I hate

It’s the same ol’, same ol’
dreary repeat
The Christmas Season
And I dread it

I shut it off
And I received it
I closed my ears to the old themes
Then I played them
Oh, no
It’s such a gross condition of my head

It’s the same ol’, same ol’
dreary repeat
The Christmas Season
And I dread it
It’s just the definition that I hate

All Saints Come

All saints come and
give praise and they
bow down and they
bend down to assemble themselves

All you have is
good faith and you
come short and you
can’t seem to tie your own shoes

All the good people will find out in all good time
In time fair people will arrive at the same mind

Good Lord, you are
one thing, you’re in
one place and
all men, they collect what they please

Man Of The People

Give me a nice icicle for when the winter is gone
I want a cold stick to suck on when the weather turns warm
I want assurance and the best of both worlds

Give me a whopping great wedge of your famous apple pie
Send me a contract that boldly proclaims that it’s mine
I want insurance and your written guarantee

I always thought you were a man of the people
I always thought you were a man of the people
The words that get back are not from you
The man who preached to a crowd by the river
Now some have you pinned down as a circus king
Now some have you pinned up for a public hanging

Give me a Cape Cod house when the planet is cured
Let me be the same shrunken size
Give me the best of both worlds and your personal guarantee
I always thought you were a man of the people
I always thought you were a man of the people
The words that get back are not from you
The man who preached to a crowd by the river
Now some have you pinned down as a circus king
Now some have you pinned up for a public hang
The words that get back are not from you

Now some have you make rounds like a circuit judge
Now some have you pinned up for a public hang
I always thought you were a man of the people
I always thought you were a man of the people
Now some have you pinned down as a circus king
Now some have you pinned up for a public hanging

Merry Christmas, Jane (Part 2)

I thought you safe
I thought you were
I assumed you got one in the mail
I thought you did
You were so close
I could see you standard in my mind
I could see you clear
but I was wrong
You were not affluent in the least
I was wrong

Merry Christmas, little Jane
I thought I’d send it back again
but I didn’t do it in the end
I didn’t know

I thought you safe
I thought you were
I assumed you kept it to yourself
I thought you did
You knew the truth
I could see you quiet behind glass
I could see you tall
but I was wrong
You had no integrity at all
I was wrong

Merry Christmas, little Jane
I thought I’d send it back again
but I didn’t do it in the end
I didn’t know

Head Cheese Log

I am having a holiday
I watch the flicker the lights will play
Up my hand goes about to say something
I’ve forgotten what
Still my mouth won’t shut up

Take my head cheese ’cause I am through with it
I baked it black in the fireplace
Take it out, I have nothing to do with it
Take it up the stack
Please don’t bring it back soon

Warm yourself by the solid state
Help yourself to another plate
It’s all in the service, for goodness sake
You just push your shoulders back
Send it up the stack now

I am humming a monotone
A day with the Yule log, I’m not alone
I am part of a massive home audience
I’m communing, I’m
not just tuning in

Warm yourself by the solid state
Help yourself to another plate
It’s all in the service, for goodness sake
You just push your shoulders back
Send it up the stack
Leave your mouth a-gap
Bake your head cheese black
Smoke it up the stack
Just don’t let it come back

All songs © 1999 by Matthew & Joseph Perry