The Christmas Scrooge (It’s a Parody – Don’t Start Slamming Me…)

I mentioned on Facebook the other day that I heard the song “The Christmas Shoes” while driving into work, and I was in such a bad mood that I re-wrote the song with a pre-ghost-visited Ebenezer Scrooge as the narrator. It’s true that I did imagine how differently the song would go if Dickens’ famous miser and all-around butthole were the principle character, but I didn’t bother to actually write the song down. I figured it was just me being mean.

Turns out, a lot of people would like to hear my satirical spin on the song. I was surprised. It’s interesting: either people absolutely adore the song and hold it up as an example of all that’s right with Christmas, or they despise it on a level that approaches a moral imperative. Lyrically, I don’t dislike the song – it’s sweet in an only-at-Christmas sentimental way. What drives me to despair is how the Newsong version is sung. I’m just not fond of that guy’s voice.

Thus the drift in my imagination and the insertion of Scrooge.

Now, please know this is satire and not at all how I feel about Christmas or giving or charity. It’s just that the song (here’s a link if you’ve never heard it) is kind of begging for a twist.

So, without any further ado, here’s my rewritten version, “The Christmas Scrooge.”

It was almost Christmas time, there I stood in another line
People buyin’ that last gift or two, annoyingly in the Christmas mood
Standing right in front of me was a little boy so impatiently
Pacing ’round like all brats do
In his hands he held some butt-ugly shoes

His clothes were worn and old, he was dirty from head to toe
And when it came his time to pay
I rolled my eyes when I heard him say

“Sir, I want to buy these shoes for my Mama, please
It’s Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size
Could you hurry, sir, Daddy says there’s not much time
You see she’s been sick for quite a while
And I know these shoes would make her smile
And I want her to look beautiful if Mama meets Jesus tonight.”

He counted pennies for what seemed like years
Then the cashier said, “Son, there’s not enough here”
He searched his pockets frantically
Then he turned and he looked at me.
He said,” Mama made Christmas good at our house
Though most years she just did without.
Tell me Sir, what am I going to do?
Somehow I’ve got to buy her these Christmas shoes.”

He gave me puppy eyes, the kind I utterly despise
I’ll never forget the look on his face when I said
“Get lost kid, I’m running late.

If you want to buy these shoes for your Mama, please,
Try and have the cash on hand to pay.

Right now you’re just wasting time, which really makes me mad.
Cause if your mom’s been fading oh so quick
Then you really, really make me sick
For waiting last minute to get her something so you don’t feel bad.”

I knew I’d probably crossed a line
When he burst into tears and ran out.
But I was glad to teach that little boy
What the real world is all about.

“If you want to buy these shoes for your Mama, please,
Try and have the cash on hand to pay.
Don’t try to sucker me, cause handouts really make me mad.
Go and get a freaking job
Quit being such a welfare slob
You shouldn’t get my hard-earned cash, this is why this country’s gone to seed.”

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