God rest ye Merry Salesmen,
Cash registers are still.
Consumer spending's down this year,
It seems a bitter pill.
Receivership, reduncancies, just who will foot the bill?
No tidings of comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy,
No tidings of comfort and joy...
From Wall St and the City came
The source of your dismay:
The gamblers and mishandlers
Have frittered funds away.
The credit crunch is biting hard, just who can save the day?
No tidings of comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy,
No tidings of comfort and joy.
Long time ago and far away,
In times much worse than these,
A prophet's voice was heard to cry
'You cannot build your dreams…
On piles of sand for they will never hold you in a squeeze.'
No tidings of comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy,
No tidings of comfort and joy.
God rest ye Merry Gentlefolk,
Let nothing you dismay.
Remember, Christ the Saviour
Was born on Christmas Day.
To save us all from dreadful fear, coveting and greed
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy!
O tidings of comfort and joy.
By Mal Fletcher, with apologies to the unknown author of the original 15th century carol!
© Mal Fletcher 2008