Reilly: Lyric Page

When I was small I believed in Santa Claus though I knew it was my dad

And I would hang up my stocking at Christmas, open my presents and I’d be glad

But the last time I played Father Christmas, I stood outside a department store

A gang of kids came over and mugged me, and knocked my reindeer to the floor


And said, “Father Christmas, give us some money

Don’t mess around with those silly toys

We’ll beat you up if you don’t hand it over

We want your bread so don’t make us annoyed

Give all the toys….to the little rich boys


Don’t give my brother a Steve Austin outfit, don’t give my sister a cuddly toy

Don’t want a jigsaw or Monopoly money, we only want the real McCoy


Father Christmas, give us the money

We’ll beat you up if you make us annoyed

Father Christmas, give us some money

Don’t mess around with those silly toys


But give my daddy a job ‘cuz he needs one, he’s got a lot of mouths to feed

And if you got one I’ll have a machine gun so I can scare all the kids on the street


Have yourself a merry, merry Christmas, have yourself a good time

But remember the kids who have nothing while you’re drinking down your wine