Please don't let it be thought that our carol service is anything but the deepest and most profound theology. Even still, some other things seem to slip in. But perhaps the sacred and profane all tangled together make the earthiness of Chritmas real and the incarnation even realler! Here's one folk have wanted a copy of. I don't know who wrote it but we edited it a little...
I am a little fairy
On tap o' the Christmas Tree
It's no' a job I fancy
Well how would you like tae be me
A tarted up wi' tinsel
It's enough to mak ye boak
An a couple o' they jaggy branches
Rammed up the back o' your frock
An' these wee lights a'roon me
I canna get to bed
An' there's the yearly visit
Fae that big guy in red.
On Christmas Day I'm stuck up here
While the turkey you’re about
An' naebody says "Hey you up there
Could you go a brussel sprout?
It's nae joke bein' a fairy
The job's beyond belief
You've got to go roon' the wean's beds
An' lift their rotten teeth
But o' a' the joabs a fairy gets
An' I've mentioned only some
The very worst is sitting up a tree
Wi' pine needles up yir……… bottom
When a' the fairies meet again
By the light of' the silvery moon
Ye can tell the Christmas fairies
They're the wans that canna sit doon
The Christmas tree's a bonny sight
As the firelight softly flickers
But think o' me I'm stuck up here
Wi' needles in my knickers
So soon as Christmas time's right by
An' I stop bein' sae full o' cheer
I'll get awa back tae Fairyland
An' I'll see yous a' next year
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