Lower Manhattan Fairytale

by the river, Manhattan’s blackened tooth

Dave’s pawning his watch for a half-pint of truth

The bartender’s grumbling, the ice turns to sleet

But Dave bellows carols off Warren and Reade

Verse 1

Christmas Eve in Tribeca, streetlamp flickers and sways

Dave fell off a step, cursed the rats in a daze

We swung through two bars, dodged a bill and a boot

Our pockets near-empty, dream shattered and mute

Dave—filthy as a coal bin, stinks of regret

Claimed he shagged Santa’s wife for a cheap bag of meth

We’re banned from O’Hara’s, chased from the Crown

Dave knocked over pint glasses, the barman yelled, "Get out now!"

Pre-Chorus

He pissed on the jukebox, nicked crisps from a nun

Snagged mistletoe kisses from a lass on the run

A crosseyed old copper said, "You're done for, you sap"

But Dave just grinned sideways and peed in his cap

Chorus

It was Christmas Eve, Dave, you drunken twit

Fell face-first on Chambers, lost your goddamned mitt

We cursed at a cabbie, pint smashed on the floor

Down in Lower Manhattan, life’s piss-poor encore

Verse 2

You swiped a barstool, your shirt soaked in gin

Jar o’ cheap whiskey, puke dribbling down your chin

Slurred every word, told the same bloody tale

About that one night with a duck and some broad in jail

Pre-Chorus

We screamed at the barman, said pour another

You called him your uncle, he spat in your lager

The jukebox was dying, the loo smelled like hell

And your breath was a war crime nobody could quell

Chorus

Dave, you goddamn bastard, I hope you choke

On turkey bones and your shoplifted smokes

We'll stagger and stumble on this sodden street

Merry f***ing Christmas, you poor useless cheat

Verse 3

You pissed in a doorway, gave Santa the bird

Swore up at the heavens, your words barely slurred

A fistful of peanuts you lobbed at a cop

He booted your arse all the way to the shop

Bridge

Staggered through gutters, shoes coated in grime

I said, 'Christ, Dave, is this how you'll die?'

You shouted, 'To Christmas!' and spewed on my feet

Just another lost night, just another defeat

Final Chorus

Here's to you, Dave, you washed-up old clown

Banned from every pub from Broadway on down

May your Christmas be filthy, your hangover stout

And if

Outro

The snow's turned to slush, and there’s piss in the lane

Dave's snoring in piss, lost the last of his brain

Some waitress is screaming he owes for the bread

But he's mumbling to ghosts of the blokes he out-drank or out-bled

I light up a smoke as the sky’s going pale

Dave mutters of glory, then farts out the tale

We stagger toward sunrise, broke as can be

Another Christmas in shambles, just Dave,

Coda

There’s blood on the ale taps, smashed glass on the floor

Dave’s snoring through curses, I bolt shut the door

Three rats in the kitchen gnaw crumbs near his head

He’d brawl with his shadow if he wasn’t near-dead

Spoken

You daft sod, Dave, you missed last call,

Bartender’s tossed you—through the window and all

A mumbled 'bollocks' escapes as you drool

Christ, in this city we’re both bloody fools

Tag

Some priest on Canal Street just gave us a glare

Dave mooned at the heavens—his arse in the air

So here’s to disgrace, and to booze and regret

Christmas in

Epilogue

It’s half past the morning, the sun’s climbing up

Dave’s drooling in gutters with puke in his cup

Some copper just stares, shakes his head, takes a note

As Dave dreams of dogshit and drowning afloat

Verse 4

I drag his dead weight past scaffolds and bins

A siren’s gone barking, the headache begins

We’re banished from Murphy’s, and Molly’s, and Finn’s

But it wouldn’t be Christmas if Dave ever wins

Outro Reprise

Some nun’s on the corner, she spits out a prayer

Dave raises a finger, too drunk to care

A tramp asks for change and Dave gives him a burp

We trudge past the towers—hungover, uncured

Last round in the city for Dave and for me

We’ll curse at the memories and spit in the sea

So here’s to the

Final Verse

Some geezer from Jersey says, 'You lads are a sight'

We flick him the bird, tell him piss off, it’s night

Dave hocks a green river on Wall Street's black stone

He laughs at the sky, swears he's king of the zone

Bleary Coda

Limping through puddles, trousers caked in grime

‘Round Battery Park, we lost track of the time

A cop with a donut says, 'Move it, ya freaks!'

Dave licks at his flask and pisses for keeps

Tagline

The bells start to clang in the cold dirty air

A drunk choir stumbles, not giving a care

I'll carry old Dave till one of us drops

Another Christmastime cock-up on ancient rooftops

Spoken

That’s it then, Dave, piss off home or drop dead—

Next Christmas I swear I’ll drink water