A Very Brooklyn Christmas

Oh Christmas tree
Oh Christmas tree

On gritty streets
In skinny jeans
Sagged way down low
Like any other day

Oh Christmas tree
Oh Grit-mas tree

Ain’t things supposed to be merry and bright
For just one day?

But the joint on the corner
With the man whose a foreigner
Still getting’ that New York attitude
Bout chicken wings and extra sauce
And make it hot and gimme “mas”

Oh Christmas tree
Oh Bliss-less tree

No family smiles
No church service choirs
Just Popeyes and wilin’
To the speakers in your ears

Blockin’ out the world so all you hear is that
“We found love in a hopeless place”
Not my usual cup of Yuletide cheer

But ‘usual’ ain’t why I’m here
So gimme your fried and your saggy-ass jeans
And your sauce on the side
And your swag built on pride

We’ll feast on each other’s legacies
And laugh at kinks the present brings
And know we did indeed find love

On this dingiest of G trains
In this boring-est of laundry chains
On this most beautiful of holidays

Oh Christmas tree
Oh Christmas tree

You sure ain’t what you used to be


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