Fairytale of New York - Saara Aalto, Michael Monroe

It’s Christmas Eve, Babe,

In the drunk tank.

An old man said to me, «Won't see another one.»

And then he sang a song,

'The Rare Old Mountain Dew'.

I turned my face away

And dreamed about you.

Got on a lucky one,

Came in eighteen to one.

I had a feeling

That year’s for me and you.

Said 'Happy Christmas,

I love you baby.

I can see a better time

When all our dreams come true.'

They’ve got cars big as bars,

They’ve got rivers of gold.

But the wind goes right through you,

Its no place for the old.

When I first took your hand,

All your fingers were blue

But I promised you Broadway was waiting for you.

I was handsome,

You were pretty;

Queen of New York City.

When the band finished playing,

They howled out for more.

Sinatra was swinging,

All the drunks they were singing,

And we kissed on the corner

Then danced through the night.

And the boys of the NYPD choir

Were singing Galway Bay.

And the bells were ringing out

For Christmas Day.

The apartment was cluttered,

And it smelled like the gutter

Where my sad broken promises

Lay with the trash.

Every cold dreary night,

We’d end up in a fight

And I’d pray, as you’d yell,

That a train’d rattle past.

And the boys of the NYPD choir

Still singing Galway Bay.

And the bells were ringing out

Christmas Day.

I could have been someone

You said «So could anyone,»

And that I took your dreams from you

When first you found me.

But I kept them with me, Babe,

I put them with my own.

I cant make it all alone,

I built my dreams around you.

It’s Christmas Eve again, in the drunk tank.

I’m an old man now, I won’t see another one.

So I’ll a sing a song, and sleep when I am through

And dream of another life, where all our dreams came true.