Still through the aisles the people come,
With carol sheets all torn,
To sing the songs they sang of old,
Before the choir was born.
Above the glow of candles bright,
The organist sits secure,
And plays with pedals, stops and things,
To make the music pure.

Yet whilst the service moves along,
With readings short and long,
The Verger sees a wisp of smoke,
And knows that something's wrong!
The Christmas tree that's by the door
Is glowing twice as bright,
The lamps have fused and melted down,
The whole damn thing's alight!

So now the carols are hastened on
By choir and musical group,
As servers try to douse the flames
With water from the stoup.
In vain the priest doth call for calm,
The people flee away.
"Ah, well," he sighs, "at least it means
No work on Christmas Day."

Tune: It came upon the midnight clear - traditional

Every eye is turned upon him
To admire his jovial face;
Those who sold the ancient vestments,
See these new clothes in their place,
Whippal's finest, Whippal's finest, Whippal's finest,
Rich brocade and lots of lace!

Clouds of incense drift around the altar,
Candles burn before the shrine,
Holy words are sung from Parish Psalter,
Whilst he takes the bread and wine.
Blessing everybody, blessing everybody, blessing everybody!
As the Bishop makes the sign!

Yea, Amen, the Mass is ended,
Go in peace, the final phrase is sweet.
Hymns and prayers have all ascended,
Vergers turn off all the heat.
Nine bells now are sounding; Nine bells now are sounding; Nine bells now are sounding;
Head for the bar in Privy Street.

Tune: Hemlsley. 8.7. 8.7. 8.7.

2

Away in the "Nine Bells", no room at the bar,

We sit in the "Snug" with our pipes and a jar.

The logs in the fireplace all crackle and hiss,

As we laze in the warmth and give Compline a miss.

The Choirboys are singing their carols so sweet,

Whilst outside the window, snow falls in the street.

Our ancient cathedral is glowing with light,

And shines like a beacon through the depths of the night.

"Another, dear landlord!  Come fill up my cup,

With the nutty brown liquid that I love to sup!"

A Wenchoster Christmas is a time of good cheer,

If I get all my stuffing, and a firkin of beer.

Tune: Away in a manger - traditional.

God rest you merry, Sacristan,

Let nothing you dismay,

For Mass is said at midnight,

And not on Christmas Day.

The Dean is at his mother's

And our Bishop is away:

So put out the candles and the lights,

Candles and lights,

So put out the candles and the lights.

In Wenchoster at Christmas

A festive spirit reigns,

And deep within the Nine Bells,

The smell of smoke remains,

For every year they burn a tree

Till only ash remains:

So put out the candles and the lights,

Candles and lights,

So put out the candles and the lights.

From out the Bishop's office,

A Christmas message comes,

Proclaiming peace and latitude

To us and all his chums.

Whilst at our door the new Youth Band

Play carols on the drums:

So put out the candles and the lights,

Candles and lights,

So put out the candles and the lights.

But do not fear, this merry tide

Doth last but a few days;

And soon we will be able to

Return to our old ways.

With wine and women, mirth and song,

And alcoholic haze;

So put out the candles and the lights,

Candles and lights,

So put out the candles and the lights.

So whilst it's here, we'll play our part

And sing those merry tunes;

And play the silly party games,

And blow up those balloons;

And eat the turkey, ham and beef,

And breakfast on dried prunes;

So put out the candles and the lights,

Candles and lights,

So put out the candles and the lights.

Tune: God rest ye merry, Gentlemen - traditional.