Thomas Fletcher (fletch31526) wrote,
Thomas Fletcher
fletch31526

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WNL-XLV: "Would she be ashamed if I said Merry Christmas, baby, what's your name?"

When I was young and my brother even younger, he had a baseball coach who was 19 years old. I remember thinking at the time that 19 seemed like such a grown up age. The coach was out of high school and on his own -- grown up, indeed. Of course, I eventually made it to 19 myself and felt like anything but an adult. I hadn't accomplished much this side of a diploma and I was still two whole years away from legally drinking. There was no way 19 counted as grown up.

In the years since, I've sort of set rolling benchmarks in my head of what age might be considered grown up. Twenty-one was the next. Twenty-four followed that since it was not too young and not too old. I pretty much rolled through the late 20s year by year -- never quite feeling grown up enough, thinking that the feeling might come next year. Now, I look back and discover that I arrived at my station without ever knowing. The job. The responsibility. The house. The wife. The age. Somehow, they all added up while I wasn't looking. Kids call me mister now. I have gray hair -- and not just a few. I think 31 is it.

I'm not like a lot of others, though. Coming to terms with some form of adulthood doesn't mean life is over. Inside, I still harbor the seven year old version of me that gets excited by fire trucks and thinks that Christmas is down right magical. I'm also the guy who finds songs about getting tanked during the holidays entertaining. No, I'm not ready for my slippers and Worther's Originals just yet.

I see a stocking hanging, but don't know whose it is
I hope Santa's bringing an icy sloe gin fizz
'Cause I've spent all of my money and I can hardly stand
My head feels very funny; there's strange scent on my hands

Guess I went out drinking -- some rot gut Christmas cheer
I got drunk this Christmas, like I do most every year

The juke box plays a carol, I start to feel a glow
But the red nose is not Rudoplh,  I'm having drinks to go
Lonely guys have gathered, tall tales have been told
It does not really matter, I'll be passed out cold

Guess I went out drinking -- some rot gut Christmas cheer
I got drunk this Christmas, like I do most every year

Today I feel like talking, I don't care to who
The girl beside me snoring looks hungover, too
Maybe I should kiss her, but would she be ashamed
If I said Merry Christmas, baby, what's your name?

Guess I went out drinking -- some rot gut Christmas cheer
I got drunk this Christmas, like I do most every year

I got drunk this Christmas, like I do most every year

-Drunk This Christmas
Paul Sanchez


(Here's the link to the song if the embeded player doesn't load.)

Tags: christmas, lyrics, poppy, public, wnl
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