A Passive-Aggressive Christmas

This novelty Christmas song has been in my song trunk for about ten years. With the (semi-)runaway success of I Am the Very Model of a Biblical Philologist on YouTube, I thought this would be a good time to dust it off and share it. This newly recorded, streamlined version features some updated lyrics and a brand new orchestral arrangement (here played by Garritan's Aria Player for Finale from MakeMusic software). A Passive-Aggressive Christmas is now available on iTunes, Apple Music, and other digital music retailers, as well as Sheetmusicplus.com.

The lyrics are reproduced below. Merry belated Christmas, and a Happy New Year!

A Passive-Aggressive Christmas

Music and Lyrics by Joshua Tyra

When I think of my home mid those fields of snow,
With that Yule log a cracklin’ on the fire,
And the tree and the lights and the mistletoe,
And a porcelain angel on a wire,

Then I’m grateful for the peace that reigns inside our home,
For the warmth and the joy that we share;
For tomorrow we’ll carry our goods
Over the river and through the woods
To grandmother’s house, and we know what awaits us there!

We’ll have a passive-aggressive Christmas,
With quite a manic depressive mood.
We’ll greet each other, and kiss and hug,
We’ll sweep our feelings beneath the rug
And medicate them away with food.

I’ll have an argument with my mother;
She’ll sob and tell me her death is near.
We’ll have a compulsive-obsessive,
Manic depressive, passive-aggressive Christmas this year!

I’ll get merry on the sherry that I’ve added to the punch,
And my wife’ll try to stifle all her grief.
And my sister won’t be speaking to the family by lunch—
Which is, more or less, a relief!

Then Gramma Margaret will martyrize herself and have a spell.
Uncle Bill will think he’s still in Vietnam.
A depressing blast to Christmas past
And every Christmas yet to come.

Just one more passive-aggressive Christmas.
In this denial we’ll each take part.
We’ll whine and moan and manipulate,
Pretending ev’rything’s going great,
When things are ready to fall apart.

We’ll play some cards at the old card table,
And we’ll all cheat, like we always do.
We’ll have a compulsive-obsessive,
Manic depressive, passive-aggressive mess when we’re through!

“Honey, why don’t you go find yourself a better paying job?”
“Honey, why aren’t you more like your brother Ted?”
“Honey, why’d you go and marry such a good-for-nothing slob?”
“If it weren’t for all I do, you’d be dead!”

As tempers flare and dander rises, we’ll be at each other’s throats,
And we’ll all say things we never meant to say.
Then we’ll lick our wounds in separate rooms,
And not emerge till New Year’s Day!

Well, something’s gonna be new this Christmas,
If my new therapist has her way.
I’ve learned that crazy can be a choice.
I’ve faced my demons and found my voice,
And I have one or two things to say!

I have a vision of Christmas future,
A premonition of Christmas cheer:
Maybe I’ll be honest and open,
Bursting with hope when Christmas returns next year!

Music and lyrics © 2005-2014 Joshua Tyra