Reggae Christmas Eve

Tinder, Tinder, Secret Oh come on, Faros, what was that? So we can wipe that with rollback to the beginning? Gotta know you don't, you're not wiping anything! Leave that on the record! I want everyone to know what a bunch of bombs I'm working with!

Alright gentlemen, let's hear it again and get it together! One Christmas Eve in Transylmania, the townsfolk were filled with a certain mania. For on that night when the sun went down, the scary raspafarians came into town.

Spreading their stuff through village and square They caught such a panic when their offbeat air Ooh, best of fair, good friends of day Stay where they are, good discretions, they gave us a scare The next guy up was Jimmy Cliff Frightening us all with a mean reggae riff Could this be Christmas we asked ourselves?

Where was he Nick in his fun loving elves? Instead we were treated the songs about Ganger So the crowd yelled out, go home, we don't want you The next thing you know, we were tapping our feet, all caught up in that Caribbean beat.

And paris and ghouls started dancing with glee. It was a perfect Christmas for a cat like me. So the moral of the story is clearly there. You don't pass judgment, cause a guy has bad hair.

And now, confloite isn't lying to you, that's a true story. It actually happened in Pennsylvania. And you know, every year, since then, on Christmas Eve, We celebrate the coming of the last of Arians. Oh, we have a good time and all the rest of Arians are invited to celebrate with us on the 24th.

But by the 25th, they've got to be out of town, I'm telling you. Because we don't come to those guys hanging around the other guys. Walking around with their light fish and everything. We're telling them to get out of town and with their dreadlocks.