Xmas in L.A.

It's rainin' at my window

Like tears upon my heart

Hear it's snowin' in Colorado,

And Chicago's abut to start.

Twenty-fourth day of December,

It's Christmas Eve, they say,

But here in sunny California,

Seems just like any other day

Another Christmas in Los Angeles

Where the angels do not sing

People all say 'Merry Christmas,'

But their words don't mean a thing.

They're sellin' trees all brown and dirty

While it's 78 outside

I close my eyes and picture home,

And the life I left behind

For this dream, all threadbare, faded

That I patch up with Believe

I'm stuck here in Los Angeles

All alone on Christmas Eve...

 

Didn't hang no decorations,

I didn't send out any cards,

Just a candle and a prayer to God

That the night won't be too hard.

I really miss my family -

Our tradition's roots run deep.

More than any other time of year,

Back home's where I want to be!

Another Christmas in Los Angeles

Where the angels do not sing

People all say 'Merry Christmas,'

But their words don't mean a thing.

They're sellin' trees all brown and dirty

While it's 78 outside

I close my eyes and picture home,

And the life I left behind

For this dream, all threadbare, faded

That I patch up with Believe

I'm stuck here in Los Angeles

All alone on Christmas Eve...

 

I don't wanna be

Stuck here with no Christmas cheer

All alone on Christmas Eve...

 

 

If I'd had the good sense to stop there (as I did in the recording) things would've been just fine. It's an honest, moving ballad, right? But then a whimsical mood hit me, and I share with you now this unrecorded 3rd verse:

 

Got myself a Christmas puppy

So I wouldn't have to be alone

Some jerk stole him outta my back yard -

Coaxed him right out with a bone.

The truck's breaks went out, and I ran over

My only, bestest friend

Lost my job, train killed my girl, got myself drunk,

Sat me down and broke this pen!

 

Another Christmas in Los Angeles

Wish those Angels wouldn't try to sing

People here say 'Happy Chanukka' -

To me, their words don't mean a thing,

They're sellin' broken old manoras

For thirty-seven-ninety-five...

 

Well, you get the idea... So now I have an offical Country song, complete with Momma, The Train, a dog, a truck, a lost love... No anti-Semetic intentions in these lyrics, just a little humor I thought I'd share with y'all...

 

©1983 John A. Yezeguielian - All Rights Reserved

 

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