It happened one dark Christmas night, or maybe in July, A star appeared above the shed (or was it someone’s eye?), The shepherds brought a rubber duck, the wise men brought a ham, And someone swore the newborn king was actually named Pam. Oh, it’s Christmas! Sort of Christmas! The details aren’t quite right, But gather ‘round the wobbling crib And sing with all your might, For nothing says tradition like A story told all wrong — Merry Inaccurate Christmas, Let’s muddle through this song! The donkey was a goldfish, the angel wore a hat, Joseph spilled the mulled wine and blamed the cat for that, Mary couldn’t find the script, she improvised instead, And shouted, “Someone fetch me tea before I lose my head!” Oh, it’s Christmas! Almost Christmas! Historically unclear, The baby glowed like fairy lights And burped out “Goodwill, dear,” The wise men then debated if They’d come to the wrong inn — But stayed for tea and biscuits, Which is how all myths begin. And though it’s all inaccurate (And frankly quite absurd), We still find love and laughter in Each misremembered word, For Christmas isn’t history — It’s warmth in winter’s frost, A tale so old and tangled that The meaning’s never lost. Oh, it’s Christmas! Merry Christmas! No matter how it’s told, With fish and ducks and faulty stars And angels catching cold, So raise your voice, you lovely loon, And sing it loud tonight — Merry Inaccurate Christmas, You got the spirit right!
