Louche Christmas

My conversation is like a locked groove

Over and over, I say the same thing

A pound in the jukebox that lasts five pints

You'll feel drained when you go home tonight

I didn't mean to bore you

It's been a while since I saw you

Please, I implore you

To listen to my story For a while

I am the worst of George Bailey

I'm at the top of the ancient belfry

And so to no one at all, I pray

The pavement's never looked so grey

And then I remember

I don't want it to be December

If next year's worse than the one before

I'm going out in a fireball

This time it's time for a louche Christmas