From The Beatles to you:
Everywhere it’s Christmas
Everywhere it’s Christmas
Everywhere it’s song
London, Paris, Rome and New York
Tokoy, Hong Kong
Oh everywhere it’s Christmas
And I’m off to join the cheer!
Everywhere it’s Christmas
At the end of every year!
Oh everywhere it’s Christmas
At the end of every year!
I said that everywhere it’s Christmas
At the end of every year!
One more time now!
Everywhere it’s Christmas…
Orowainya, orowainya, orowainya, ooh
Endomainya, endomainya, endomainya, ooh
Our story opens in Corsica. On the Verandah is a bearded man in glasses conducting a small choir.
Orowainya, orowainya, orowainya…
Yohoo! Yodellaihetee! Yohoo!
Meanwhile, high in the Swiss Alps, two elderly Scotsmen munch on a rare cheese.
“Mm, wonderful stuff this, Agnes.”
“Aye, it’s wonderful stuff.”
Hodellaihetee! Yodellaihetee!
I’m standing in the entrance to the main tent. Immediately behind me, the festivities have already begun.
“Tell me, are you enjoying the wine?”
“I am indeed your highness. It goes well with me.”
“Yeah, very good, very good. Ha ha ha!”
“The king seems to be enjoying himself tonight!
“You might not have seen him on such good focus since the October Festival.”
“Alright! Is there a doctor here? Is there a doctor around here? Did anybody see one?”
At the same time as this in the Captain’s mess in board, the H.M.S. Tremendous, a toast is being proposed.
“To Her Majesty!”
“To Her Majesty!”
Ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho!
Podgy the bear and Jasper were huddled around the unlit fire in the centre of the room.
“There are no more matches left, Podgy,” said Jasper.
“Then buy some, Jasper, old friend,” said Podgy.
“Make a list and afterwards we’ll go to the shop and buy matches and buy candles and buns.”
“There’s no more paper to write on, Podgy.”
“No need to worry, Jasper. You keep saying to yourself ‘matches’ and I’ll keep saying ‘candles’ until we reach the shop. Then we won’t need to write it down, we’ll remember.”
“Who’ll remember the buns, Podgy?”
“We both will, Jasper… Matches.”
“Candles.”
“Matches.”
“Candles.”
“Matches.”
“Candles.”
“Matches.”
“Candles.”
“Matches.”
“Candles.”
In the long dark corridors of Felpin Mansions, a door slams.
And the shadowy firgure of Count Balder appears. The Count is the eccentric son of Baron Landsberg, the inventor of the rack. He speaks…
“Guten taen, meinen damen and herren. Welcome to Felpin Mansions. The Butler will show you to your rooms. Butler!”
“Yes, Sir!”
“Show the ladies and gentlemen to their rooms.”
“Yes, Sir! Come this please.”
“Come in.”
“May I come in?”
“Come, come in, Count.”
“May I?”
“Oh, yes, come in.”
“Ah, thank you. I was wondering if you knew any of the songs from the good old days.”
“Oh, my goodness, yes. Don’t you worry on that score. I hear the Baron likes, uh, I hear the Baron likes the good old tunes.”
“Yes, I do.”
“So do I, Count. So do I.”
“But they’re all melodies, aren’t they?”
“No, don’t worry. I’ll play this one. Do you like this one? Listen to this one.”
Please don’t bring your banjo bag
I know where it’s been
I wasn’t hardly gone a day
When it became the scene
Banjos, banjos all the time
I can’t forget that tune
And if I ever see another banjo
I’m going out to buy a big balloon
And if I ever see another banjo
I’m going out to buy a big balloon
And if I ever see another banjo
I’m going out to buy a big balloon
And if I ever see another banjo
I’m going out to buy a big balloon
And if I ever see another banjo
I’m going out to buy a big balloon
Yes, everywhere it’s Christmas.
Everywhere it’s Christmas
Everywhere it’s song
London, Paris, Rome and New York
Tokoy, Hong Kong
Oh everywhere it’s Christmas
And I’m off to join the cheer!
Everywhere it’s Christmas
At the end of every year!
Oh everywhere it’s Christmas
At the end of every year!
I said that everywhere it’s Christmas
At the end of every year!
One more time now!
Everywhere it’s Christmas
At the end of every year
Ha ha ha, jolly good, ho ho, jolly good.