DRUNKTANK

by Naming The Saints

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released December 3, 2012

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Makers of music. Lovers of pop. Christmas is coming...

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Track Name: Our Love's Beginning to Look a lot Like Christmas
Take that clock down off the wall and set its hands for bedtime,
lace our coffee with some rum until we get the fire started,
'cos we know it's going to be a cold, cold Christmas.

And a wee boy on the TV, who reminds me of a young me,
counts the days 'til Christmas, as The Smiths sing in the background
for once in my life please let me get what I want.

I understand his patience, if it's worth having its worth waiting,
but then I realise it's an advert, so I flick over the channel.
And you say to me it's good to see a little bit of warmth left at Christmas.

I say no, it's just TV; we really should just turn it off.
You say no, 'cos I love TV. Plus we argue when we talk.

How many rules will be break?
How many times will we smile and it be fake?
How many glasses clink and how many times is it bad to think,
our love's looking a lot like Christmas?
It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

I don't believe in Santa or his elves that make the toys,
but I wish they'd come and visit to distract me from this noise.
They could bring their friends and we could pretend that the footprints in the snow were real.
Because charades is getting boring and there's nothing worse than knowing,
that I let you down at Christmas, so tonight I'll hit the drunktank,
and tomorrow, me and whisky-breath, we'll find some mistletoe and say to you...

Merry Christmas. Can we please turn it off?
You'll say yeah sure fine why not it's Christmas?
What better time to talk.

How many rules will be break?
How many times will we smile and it be fake?
How many glasses clink and how many times is it bad to think,
our love's looking a lot like Christmas?
It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas.
Our love's ended up like Christmas.
Track Name: The Ghost of Christmas Presents
Lifting down the shoebox full of tinsel for the tree,
that's 3-foot tall and long-time dead, but that's good enough for me.
Because soon we'll be back home now, back to where we met,
'cos this city's thrown it's worst at us this year.

Being good's all relative, but being bad's more fun,
so I hope I hear some sleigh bells on the roof if Santa comes.
Staying up by candlelight and burning logs to dust;
it's the little things that make this season last.

I see you walking in the snow,
so I follow your footprints and I hope they take me home.
Christmas aint Christmas unless it snows,
so let's do this until we're old.

Make mine a double as this season's kicking in,
when festivities mean something more than the usual gigs and drinks.
'Cos home is where the heart is and this heart's never felt so near,
to the best few days it's going to see all year.

I see you walking in the snow,
so I follow your footprints and I hope they take me home.
Christmas aint Christmas unless it snows,
so let's do this until we're old.

Not understanding, not even comprehending, why Christmas can't come sooner,
because my money it's for spending.
The family are all waiting and the TV's getting dated, so let's just get wasted as we talk of gifts and angels.
Real-life can keep waiting now, 'cos Christmas can't be wasted, but doing less than caring is just taking it for grant.
Now and then it all can get just a little bit too festive, but we both need this to see who we are.

I see you walking in the snow,
so I follow your footprints and I hope they take me home.
Christmas aint Christmas unless it snows,
so let's do this until we're old.
We've been walking in this snow,
kick your boots off at the back-door; thank god we're home.
Christmas is when the best stories are told,
so let's do this until we're old.
Until we're old.
Track Name: The Great Escape
I get the bus home, I still can't drive.
26 is too early to die.
The top window illuminates, but the ice and the cold have jammed the front gate again.
So I follow Christmas lights to the backdoor,
where my mum's standing waiting in the blistering cold.
The dog's wearing tinsel, the tree's a bit shite,
but everybody's here so everything is just fine.

I've seen it all before,
my papa's head fell forward as his whisky hit the floor.
So I turned the TV down, just as Steve McQueen goes soaring.
His great escape marks another Christmas Day.

Footprints in the snow, don't exist any more.
But the lights on that tree are from the 80s.
When the getting was good, I was 4 or 5; nothing in this world could've made me feel more alive
than waking up on Christmas Day, despite of the cold you better get out of my way.
Don't say we're off to church again, 'cos I've this Ghostbusters fire station I'm dying to open.

I've seen it all before,
my papa's head fell forward as his whisky hit the floor.
So I turned the TV off, just as Steve McQueen goes soaring.
His great escape marks another Christmas Day.