THE opening lines of Christmas carols are belted out, but after that voices quickly fade. Nobody remembers how the f**k these go:
Silent Night
You begin with supreme confidence as it starts with the most famous bit, but shit goes south faster than Santa’s sleigh on Christmas Eve. It’s about the clear, crisp evening when Jesus was born, but the actual silence is you struggling to remember what comes after ‘all is calm, all is bright’.
Ding Dong Merrily on High
Another one where you come in powerfully before your memory abandons you entirely. Who knew the sky was ‘riven’ with angels or steeple bells were ‘swungen’; are those even words? Mumble vaguely until leaping back for ‘gloria’ and a strong ‘hosanna in excelsis’ and hope someone else can carry the middle.
Little Donkey
Once you’ve established this diminutive donkey is on a dusty road to Bethlehem while carrying a heavy load, ie Christ, his mum, an enormous amount of theological baggage, you get foggy on the words. And no, the rhyme for ‘on a dusty road’ isn’t ‘wired to explode’. You’re confusing it with Die Hard.
God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen
Exactly four lines. As soon as you sing ‘born on Christmas Day’ the rest of the song is a complete mystery. It could be about the titular gentlemen smoking opium through hookah pipes, it could be a mash-up with Ronan Keating’s Life Is A Rollercoaster for all you know. It’s a memory loss as comprehensive as a tequila blackout.
Twelve Days of Christmas
Less a carol, and more an implement of mental torture. An impossible, lyrical Rubik’s Cube only cracked by schoolkids who’ve learned it for their Christmas concert. Geese a-laying? Lords a-leaping? Cooks a-frying? Foxes a-shagging? Junkies a-scoring? After five gold rings you’re f**ked, you know it, everyone knows it. Give up there.
