Sparks - Thank god its not christmas

^BbWhat do I hear, what do I hear? ^GmChit-chat, and clinking glass ^AbCheap talk, a lady's laugh ^FAfter hours

^BbWhat do I see, what do I see? ^GmSome sunken hideaway ^AbWhere people go to play ^FAfter hours

^EbThere I'll spend the night ^BbMeeting fancy things ^GmAt bistros and old haunts Trying very hard to ^Fsin

^BbThen it is day end in a way ^GmThe pattern's much the same ^AbIn-spots, a matinee ^FEvery day

^BbBlend with the crowd, blend with the loud ^GmHypnotic ebb and flow ^AbUntil the day goes slowly ^FInto night

^EbSee the same old crowd ^BbAt bistros and old haunts ^Gm'Til the lights grow dim, The not-so-subtle hint to be ^Fgone

^DbThank God it's not Christmas When there is ^Ebonly you, and nothing else to do ^DbThank God it's not Christmas Where there's just ^Ebyou to do. The rest is closed to public ^Fview

^BbCaroling kids, caroling kids ^GmA trifle premature, ^Abin tones so rich and pure and ^Fcrystalline

^BbCall for the day, the popular day ^GmIt's fast approaching now ^AbBut will the mood allow ^FOne dissent

^EbIf this were the Seine ^BbWe'd be very suave ^GmBut it's just the rain washing down the boule^Fvard

^BbPopular days, the popular ways ^GmAre for the chosen few ^AbNot meant for me and you ^FObviously

^BbPopular nights, poplar rites ^GmGreat things to say and do ^AbAren't said or done by you ^FObviously

^EbIf this were Seine ^BbWe'd be very suave ^GmBut it's just the rain washing down the boule^Fvard