Christmas Song
It’s Christmas time all over the place
Round about now Santa shows his face
He jumped in his sleigh and flew up high
Radar picked him up and blew him out of the sky
Santa goes to a pub with no transport
And starts getting pissed just like he ought.
The Sons of Yellowbeard crash this place
And he tells us his story; his hard luck case.
It’s the time for goodwill to every man
We said “We’ll do the best we can.”
Bust out of the bar
Hotwire a car
And deliver those pressies near and far.

You’d better watch out
You’d better bewar
Or you’ll get no pressies
And he don’t care, cos

Muriel is coming to town
Muriel is coming to town
Muriel is coming to town.

He’s usually been drinking
Or else he’s really high
You’d better not try to piss him off
Or else you can kiss your ass goodbye.

So here he is, Fluff at Christmas
Bringing all some Christmas cheer.
Don’t take it for granted
Cos he’s a grumpy sod the rest of the year.


Christmas Rhyme
The Sons of Yellowbeard Christmas Rhyme
Brought to you at this festive time
By our four chaps of joyous cheer
(But miserable gits the rest of the year).

Anthrax (the good looking one)
Thinks Xmas is a time for fun
Getting crap presents that weren’t on your list
Stuffing your face and then getting pissed.
Relative visiting (the ultimate chore)
Feeling ill then throwing up on their floor
Meeting young girls of high spirit and laughter
Giving a false name so they can’t trace you after.
With lots of food, sex, pressies and beer
Ensures Anthrax Has a merry Xmas and a happy new year.
So whatever your perversion and slightest fetish
He hopes Santa brings you all that you wish.

Anthrax adds a personal plea
And says “Don’t get a lobotomy,
“They’d shave your head and make you feel chilly
“And besides the stitches would look very silly.”