How the Communists Ruined Christmas
'Twas the night before Christmas
And all throughout the house
Not a creature dared disagree
Yeah, not even a mouse
With their communist Dogma
With their Soviet creed
No Christmas decorations here
No presents under the tree
Down the chimney
Came Karl Marx dressed in a Father Christmas suit
Smiling broadly
Rotting face, flowing beard, snow on his boots
Snow on his boots
He said gather round children
I have a secret to tell
I know you've followed me faithfully this far
But the truth is well
You must have thought I was joking
That I was taking the piss
You all claim to think I'm a genius
But a genius would never want this
Guarantee the dream
Grinding down until it's all a tirade of decay
People fed stuff
--- condone and they don't obey
It always ends the same
And little Vladimir
And little Josef
And little Fidel
And little Mau
And little Che
They all realised
They look like dickheads
And everything they had built now is slipping away
And that's why
They decided
To kill Karl
And burn his fucking body
They blow out his brains and they scatter his remains
Tell us all how it's not Father Christmas
They blow out his brains and they scatter his remains
Tell us all how it's not Father Christmas
They blow out his brains and they scatter his remains
Tell us all how it's not Father Christmas
They blow out his brains and they scatter his remains
Tell us all how it's not Santa Claus
And all throughout the house
Not a creature dared disagree
Yeah, not even a mouse
With their communist Dogma
With their Soviet creed
No Christmas decorations here
No presents under the tree
Down the chimney
Came Karl Marx dressed in a Father Christmas suit
Smiling broadly
Rotting face, flowing beard, snow on his boots
Snow on his boots
He said gather round children
I have a secret to tell
I know you've followed me faithfully this far
But the truth is well
You must have thought I was joking
That I was taking the piss
You all claim to think I'm a genius
But a genius would never want this
Guarantee the dream
Grinding down until it's all a tirade of decay
People fed stuff
--- condone and they don't obey
It always ends the same
And little Vladimir
And little Josef
And little Fidel
And little Mau
And little Che
They all realised
They look like dickheads
And everything they had built now is slipping away
And that's why
They decided
To kill Karl
And burn his fucking body
They blow out his brains and they scatter his remains
Tell us all how it's not Father Christmas
They blow out his brains and they scatter his remains
Tell us all how it's not Father Christmas
They blow out his brains and they scatter his remains
Tell us all how it's not Father Christmas
They blow out his brains and they scatter his remains
Tell us all how it's not Santa Claus
Credits
Writer(s): Frank Turner, Ben Dawson, Matt Nasir
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
Other Album Tracks
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.