by Mike McHugh mateymikemusic@gmail.com
My daddy had a Christmas punch recipe
It was handed down through the family
It went down well but it was potent as hell
He made it up every Christmas Eve
I can’t forget the time when my brother and I
Raided the punch until the bowl was dry
Dad was real upset when there wasn’t any left
And I had to kiss the car keys goodbye
Chorus:
We got drunk on the Christmas punch late at night on Christmas Eve
Hoping Santa Claus is a drinkin’ man too; so he’ll have a little sympathy
‘Cause if he ain’t I’m gonna have a stocking of coal hangin’ up by the chimney for me
When I was grown and had kids of my own
I’d mix the punch up the way my Daddy always done
On a cold winter night it goes down so right
Feel it settle down in your bones
But later on at night I found it wasn’t so bright
To have some punch and put together my boy’s new bike
The wheels weren’t straight and I scratched up the paint
And I couldn’t get the brakes to hold tight
Repeat Chorus
Now I’m old, and time has taken its toll
But I’m still partaking from the same punch bowl
And as I take another drink it’s a comfort to think
About the customs that we never outgrow