I'm Really Starting to Like This Guy

I never heard of Tim Minchin until @natraehawking re-tweeted @thomasemson, who declared "White Wine in the Sun" the best Christmas song ever. And since, I've been abusing his YouTube videos, and yes, even buying some on iTunes.



"White Wine in the Sun"

I really like Christmas.
It's sentimental I know,
But I just really like it.

I am hardly religious;
I’d rather break bread with Dawkins than Desmond Tutu,
To be honest.

And yes, I have all of the usual objections to consumerism,
To the commercialization of an ancient religion,
To the westernization of a dead Palestinian
Press-ganged into selling PlayStations and beer.
But I still really like it.

I'm looking forward to Christmas,
Though I'm not expecting a visit from Jesus.
I'll be seeing my dad,
My brother and sisters, my gran and my mum.
They'll be drinking white wine in the sun.
I'll be seeing my dad,
My brother and sisters, my gran and my mum.
They'll be drinking white wine in the sun.

I don't go in for ancient wisdom.
I don't believe just 'cause ideas are tenacious
It means they're worthy.

I get freaked out by churches;
Some of the hymns that they sing have nice chords,
But the lyrics are dodgy.

And yes, I have all of the usual objections to the miseducation
Of children who in tax-exempt institutions are taught to externalize blame,
And to feel ashamed, and to judge things as plain right or wrong.
But I quite like the songs.

I'm not expecting big presents;
The old combination of socks, jocks, and chocolate
Is just fine by me.
'Cause I’ll be seeing my dad,
My brother and sisters, my gran and my mum.
They'll be drinking white wine in the sun.
I'll be seeing my dad,
My brother and sisters, my gran and my mum.
They'll be drinking white wine in the sun.

And you, my baby girl,
My jet-lagged infant daughter,
You'll be handed 'round the room
Like a puppy at a primary school,
And you won't understand,
But you will learn some day
That wherever you are and whatever you face
These are the people
Who'll make you feel safe in this world,
My sweet blue-eyed girl.

And if, my baby girl,
When you're twenty-one or thirty-one
And Christmas comes around,
And you find yourself 9000 miles from home,
You’ll know whatever comes,
Your brothers and sisters and me and your mum
Will be waiting for you in the sun.
Whenever you come,
Your brothers and sisters,
Your aunts and your uncles,
Your grandparents, cousins,
And me and your mum.
Will be waiting for you in the sun,
Drinking white wine in the sun.
Darling, when Christmas comes,
We'll be waiting for you in the sun,
Drinking white wine in the sun,
Waiting for you in the sun,
Drinking white wine in the sun,
Waiting for you,
Waiting.

I really like Christmas.
It’s sentimental I know.



"Not Perfect"
....This is my body, and I live in it.
It’s 31 and 6 months old.
It’s changed a lot since it was new.
It’s done stuff it wasn’t built to do.
I often try to fill it up with wine.

And the weirdest thing about it is,
I spend so much time hating it,
But it never says a bad word about me.

This is my body, and it’s fine.
It’s where I spend the vast majority of my time.
It’s not perfect, but it’s mine.
It’s not perfect....