No Xmas for John Quays
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Lyrics
The X in Xmas is a substitute crucifix for Christ
A one, a two, a one, two, three, four
No Christmas for junkies
No Christmas for junkies
No Christmas for junkies
No Christmas for junkies
Oh, the powers reach you
And the powers teach you
And when you bang
That they can reach you
There is no Christmas for junkies
He thinks he is more interesting than the world
The basics puts him in a whirl
And a packet of three pack nines
Five hundred and fifty a glide
A packet of those over there
And twenty special offer cigars
And twenty special offer cigars
Found talking to the cigarette machine
It's a nicotinic acid
Good King Wenceslas looked out
Silly bugger he fell out
Ah, ah-ah-ah
Ah-ah-ah, ah-ah-ah
Ah-ah-ah, ah-ah-ah
He spits in the sky
It falls in his eye
And then he gets to sitting
Talking to his pictures
And talking about Frankie Lymon
"Tell me why is it so?
Tell me why is it so?"
Out of his place with the idle waste
Out of the room with his tube
Although the skins are thin
He knows it's up to him
To go out or stay in
Oh, I'll stay in
I'll stay, I'll stay in
I'll stay in
I'll stay in
You, me, Xmas, Xmas
Ah, ah-ah-ah
Ah-ah-ah, ah-ah-ah
Ah-ah-ah, ah-ah-ah
Well, the powers reach you
And the powers teach you
And when you bang
That they can reach you
There is no Christmas for junkies
No girls, no girls
Just a traffic passing by
Bye, bye, bye, bye, bye, bye, bye
Bye, bye, bye
Bye, bye, bye
One, two, three, four
No Christmas for junkies
No Christmas for junkies
No Christmas for junkies
No Christmas for junkies