Music Banter - Trollheart's Christmas Carol: A Tale for the Festive Season

Twas the night before Christmas, all over the forum
Nobody was behaving with any decorum.
Batty was posting Hitler GIFs by the ton;
Chula was arguing with just about everyone.
Elphenor as usual was sick of it all
And Occult was plotting Islam's downfall.
Janszoon, tired of keeping the peace
Had retired from the forum police.
Pet Sounds tried to put on a brave face
But a dark pall of gloom hung over the place.

I watched as these people I'd come to know
Fought amongst each other all the time although
Some grasped hands, into the same bands
Then off to hassle some newbie they'd go
And people who had only recently joined the fold
Like the garage rock fan they called Rubber Soul
Looked on in despair, fights here, fights there
Like someone trying to escape a black hole.

"Metal is shit", spat our anarchist punk
In reply, "You're a fraud, all you say is bunk!"
It was a bit ratty but you couldn't blame Batty
Who considers elphenor something of a skunk.
“You've no taste!” snapped Frownland, turning on me:
But I wasn't listening as I turned to see
A star in the sky, just visible to the eye
In the distance; what could it be?

And now all arguments ceased as we all stopped to stare
At that bright shiny spark just hovering there.
No, not hovering: coming closer, and growing in size:
We all found it hard to believe our own eyes.
When the sound of sardonic laughter came through the air
Filling the ears of all gathered there
As the shape grew larger and more distinct;
And from the sky it began to sink
We saw a fat man in a burberry coat
Who seemed to be driving some weird flying boat.

Drawn by eight fire-breathing, winged black horses
A carriage surely propelled by magical forces?
Came in for a landing, smooth as you like
Coming to earth gentle as a kite.
From it stepped a man we all knew:
(Well I knew him, and I think so did you)
He looked all around him, his face all aglow
Said “This is what happens as soon as I go!
You there! I don't know you, but fetch me a bourbon!
This looks to be a job for Saint Urban!”

And so it was he, who had left us behind
When the strain of the forum had tested his mind
And without whom we were like kids without care
Or a bunch of mice running around blind.
I could see from his frown, his disapproving look
That he knew how to read us all just like a book:
We think we're so clever, each of us better
Sometimes we just need to be shook.

“For the love of Nick Cave!” he said with a roar
“It's Christmas, you cunts, don't fight any more!
Do you want to end up like this shower of fools,
Remembered only as annoying past ghouls?”
Then three figures stepped out from the back of his sled
Who, though alive, looked to be dead.
Sansa, Dirty, Butthead they were named,
On whom most if not all of the drama is blamed.
Terrifying their aspect, great was the warning:
Go on as you are and them you'll be joining.
With a disgusted wave of his hand
He dismissed the sour motley band.

“Christmas is a time to celebrate”, he said
“A time when you can get out of your head
And though as you know I sure ain't no monk
I think we'll agree it's a time to get drunk!”
And here he removed with no effort at all
A huge sack from his sleigh, would have busted my balls!
His scowl disappearing, replaced by a grin
He reached his big brawny arm right in
And began to remove from that massive bag
The greatest collection of Christmas time swag.

For Janzsoon, some records of Peruvian jazz
For Frownland, new music from the Palace of Shabazz
For Pet Sounds, to whom he had always felt an uncle
The collected works of Simon and Garfunkel.
For Batty, a boxset of every Judge Dredd.
For elphenor, music to annoy even the dead.
For MicShazam, who loves the female voice
The very best music from ladies of choice.
For Anteater, Yacht Rock from the very best stable
For Occult, music that was unassailable.

And so it went on, and the booze was passed round
As everyone sat in a circle on the ground
And recalled old times, or listened to stories
Of forum drama and all the past glories.
And a happy fog settled over the band
The way only getting really pissed can.
Greetings exchanged, grins big and sloppy
(I don't drink so I only had coffee)
And in that one night we all finally learned
The meaning of Christmas, all our anger turned
To joy and to laughter, all pain forgotten
And somewhere in the world was a saviour begotten.
We drank until dawn, and sang songs round the fire
(Don't know where it came from but it kept building higher!)
And when the eastern sky began to lighten
Urban got up and his belt he did tighten.

“Now I must be gone, ere the first light of dawn.
I hope you all remember this all your lives long
That fighting at Christmas will bring you no luck;
And if you haven't learned, then I don't give a fuck.
I must away, far over the bay
For I have work to do on this magical day.
So be good to each other, remember the lesson:
It's only rock and roll, not hell and heaven!”

He threw back in the now-empty sack
(I'm sure I heard a click in his back!)
As he sat in the seat and put up his feet
The horses did start their wings to beat.
He waved as the sleigh rose high into the sky
And in a twinkling he was gone from my eyes.
But I heard him exclaim, as he rode away in the night:
“God bless David Bowie! Phil Collins is shite!”