The Battle of Christmas Day

The Queen of the Faeries gathered her troops,
On the brow of a snow-topped hill,
It was Christmas day when they made their stand,
And we sing of the legend still,
A pale winter sun crept over the trees,
As the Elvish brigades advanced,
The battle began on the stroke of ten,
While the garrison sang and danced.

Yes, the Faeries sang and danced.

The Unicorn cavalry charged downhill,
With their shimmering spears held high,
Determined to shatter the forward lines,
In a matter of do or die,
But the Elves were armed with liquorice pikes,
Which they'd anchored into the ground,
And the thunder of hooves was soon drowned out,
By the terrible screaming sound.

Oh, the terrible, terrible sound.

"Brother Elves, Brother Elves,
Forward into battle,
Onward unto victory,
Or hear our deathly rattle."

They moved their artillery out of the woods,
The cannon all loaded with Christmas puds,
And the barrage began around noon,
Yes, the barrage began around noon.

The Elves now advanced with a steady tread,
As they fought through the barricades,
They died in their boots in a deadly hail,
Made of glitter-ball hand grenades,
The Faerie grenadiers had to retreat,
When their ammunition was gone,
The Elves fell on them with peppermint swords,
And they slaughtered them one by one.

Yes, they slaughtered them one by one.

The blood running over the snow-topped hill,
Made it look like a Christmas cake,
The smell of cinnamon hung in the air,
As it drifted over the lake,
Then the Faerie Queen cast her eyes around,
And she saw that the day was lost,
As she wept for the fallen of friend and foe,
She counted the terrible cost.

Oh, the terrible, terrible cost.

"Brother Elves, Brother Elves,
Raise our standard high,
The Queen has but one choice to make,
Surrender now or die!"

The Marshal of Elves stepped out through the ranks,
With his candy-cane cutlass drawn,
And his gaze fell onto the Faerie Queen,
So defiant and yet forlorn,
"Madam you fought us with courage and skill,
And you governed your kingdom well,
But now you must live under Elvish rule,"
...She told him to "Go to Hell!"

Yes, she told him to "Go to Hell!"

A sugary scimitar pierced her heart,
Ending her life for a legend to start,
And we sing of it every year,
Yes, we sing of it every year.

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