The x in x-mas is a substitute crucifix for Christ

No Christmas for John Quays







The powders reach

And the powders teach

And when you find they can't reach

There is no Christmas for junky







He thinks he is

More interesting

Than the world

But buying cigs

Puts him in a whirl







A packet of three-five fives

555

A packet of those over there

And 20 special offer cigars







Found talking to the cigarette machine

Into nicotinic acid

Good king Wenceslaus, he looked out

Silly bugger, he fell out







He spits in the sky

It falls in his eye

Then he gets to sit in

Talking to his kitten





And talking about Frankie Lymon





Tell me why is it so?

Tell me why is it so?





Out of his face with The Idle Race

Out of the room with his tune







Although the skins are thin

He knows its up to him

To go out or stay in







I'll stay in

I'll stay in







You

Me

X-Mas

X-Mas







There is no Christmas for junkies

No girls

No curls

Just the traffic passing by

Bye bye bye bye bye bye bye bye

1,2,3,4







No X-mas for John Quays