Thank God It's Not Christmas

	作曲 : Ron Mael
	作词 : Ron Mael
	What do I hear, what do
	I hear? Chit-chat, and clinking glass
	Cheap talk, a lady's laugh
	After hour
	What do I see, what do
	I see? Some sunken hideaway
	Where people go to play
	After hour
	There I'll spend the night
	Meeting fancy thins
	At bistros and old haunts
	Trying very hard to sin
	Then it is day end in a way
	The pattern's much the same
	In-spots, a matinee
	Every day
	Blend with the crowd, blend with the loud
	Hypnotic ebb and flow
	Until the day goes slowly
	Into night
	See the same old crowd
	At bistros and old haunts '
	Til the lights grow dim,
	The not-so-subtle hint to be gone [Chorus:]
	Thank God it's not
	Christmas
	When there is only you
	And nothing else to do
	Thank God it's not
	Christmas
	Where there's just you to do
	The rest is closed to public view
	Caroling kids, caroling kids
	A trifle premature, in tones so rich and pure and crystaline
	Call for the day, the popular day
	It's fast approaching now
	But will the mood allow
	One dissent
	If this were the
	Seine We'd be very suave
	But it's just the rain
	Washing down the boulevard [Chorus]
	Popular days, the popular ways
	Are for the chosen few
	Not meant for me and you
	Obviously
	Popular nights, poplar rites
	Great things to say and do
	Aren't said or done by you
	Obviously
	If this were
	Seine We'd be very suave
	But it's just the rain
	Washing down the boulevard

	zuò qǔ : Ron Mael
	zuò cí : Ron Mael
	What do I hear, what do
	I hear? Chitchat, and clinking glass
	Cheap talk, a lady' s laugh
	After hour
	What do I see, what do
	I see? Some sunken hideaway
	Where people go to play
	After hour
	There I' ll spend the night
	Meeting fancy thins
	At bistros and old haunts
	Trying very hard to sin
	Then it is day end in a way
	The pattern' s much the same
	Inspots, a matinee
	Every day
	Blend with the crowd, blend with the loud
	Hypnotic ebb and flow
	Until the day goes slowly
	Into night
	See the same old crowd
	At bistros and old haunts '
	Til the lights grow dim,
	The notsosubtle hint to be gone Chorus:
	Thank God it' s not
	Christmas
	When there is only you
	And nothing else to do
	Thank God it' s not
	Christmas
	Where there' s just you to do
	The rest is closed to public view
	Caroling kids, caroling kids
	A trifle premature, in tones so rich and pure and crystaline
	Call for the day, the popular day
	It' s fast approaching now
	But will the mood allow
	One dissent
	If this were the
	Seine We' d be very suave
	But it' s just the rain
	Washing down the boulevard Chorus
	Popular days, the popular ways
	Are for the chosen few
	Not meant for me and you
	Obviously
	Popular nights, poplar rites
	Great things to say and do
	Aren' t said or done by you
	Obviously
	If this were
	Seine We' d be very suave
	But it' s just the rain
	Washing down the boulevard