If I let you be as superstitious as you want
And raise your children with gods that haunt
Will you back the hell off my brothers and me
And content yourselves to just let us be?
You can dress yourself and your children
As two thousand year old men and women.
Happy celebration, to everyone here
To every person, all through the year.
Let’s tell each other all we are glad of,
And share with each other peace and love.
It would be a lovely thing for all people to do.
We could all have holidays, yes, Christmas too.
We could create traditions of good will in men.
Now, where did I hear that phrase again?
We could spread messages of tolerance and love
And you could blame it all on something above.
We could start collecting ornaments and things
Just a bit different than your angels with wings,
And we could light candles and sing some songs
And if you wanted to, you could sing along.
And chant obscure ditties and archaic poems
Just don’t expect us to, even if we know them.
Happy celebration, to everyone here
To every person, all through the year.
Let’s tell each other all we are glad of,
And share with each other peace and love.
Then nobody would scowl and wish you ill
Because we wouldn’t have anything like hell.
There would be no devil dude to make you sad
And plenty of words to say when you’re mad.
We’d just have a place where we could all live
And presents for each other if we wanted to give.
Happy celebration, to everyone here
To every person, all through the year.
Let’s tell each other all we are glad of,
And share with each other peace and love.
