Christmas Bop Songtext

von T. Rex

Words & Music by Marc Bolan
Posthum Release
Recorded by T.Rex, 1975

(Christmas)
(T. Rexmas)
(Christmas)

Everybody's gotta do the Christmas Bop, yeah.

Hey baby, lend me your ear,
Christmas time is drawing near.
Get out your silk jeans
And your space shoes.
I've got some sweet, wild, devastating news.

(Christmas), here comes the sun.
(Christmas), we're gonna have some fun.
(Christmas), gonna dance till we drop.
Everybody's gotta do the Christmas Bop, yeah.

Summer's gone and snow's falls down.
I'm gonna miss that golden, surfing sound.
But cold is bold and there's nothing wrong.
We're dressed sweet while I'm singing my song, yes.

(Christmas), here comes the sun.
(Christmas), we're gonna have some fun.
(Christmas), gonna dance till we drop.
Everybody's gotta do the Christmas Bop, yeah.
(Christmas)

Hey baby, lend me your ear,
Christmas time is drawing near.
Get out your silk jeans
And your space shoes.
'Cause I've got some sweet, wild, devastating news. yeah.

Summer's gone and snow's falls down.
I'm gonna miss that golden, surfing sound.
But cold is bold and there's nothing wrong.
We're dressed sweet while I'm singing my song, yes.

(Christmas), here comes the sun.
(T.Rexmas), it's the golden one.
(Christmas), gonna dance till we drop.
Everybody's gotta do the Christmas Bop, yeah.
Because it's,

(Christmas), here comes the sun.
(T.Rexmas),
(Christmas), gonna dance till we drop.
Everybody's gotta do the Christmas Bop.
Because it's,

Christmas, here comes the sun.
(T.Rexmas),
(Christmas), gonna dance till we drop, because,
Everybody's gotta do the Christmas Bop, yeah.

(Christmas),
(T.Rexmas), I wanna laugh, girl.
(Christmas),
Everybody's gotta do the Christmas Bop, yeah.

(Christmas), here comes the sun.
(T.Rexmas), see the golden one now.
(Christmas).
Don't do this boppin' down the style.
Listen me good and look me in the eye.

(Christmas), it's T. Rexmas, yeah.
(T.Rexmas).
(Christmas),
Everybody's gotta do the Christmas Bop, oh-hoo.
(Christmas).
OK.
Pain, baby, but it does not prayer my brain.
Abraham, Martin Luther ain't gone, gotta sing my song.