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Irrfan Khan Christmas

by Shit Whitman

/
1.
Time to go shopping for garments that fit the raj “I know an outlet by the bay where they let you try on dhoti’s that don’t need to be dry-cleaned to seem preened" you screamed "You would look handsome if only you’d don a silk sarong!" In song, we right wrongs bring warmth to the coldest of nights When the hearth of love bleats like a hot kettle's hum shrill infantile howl of a child who desires just to prompt a fight Let’s go tour Jodhpur avoiding airport hassle Swing through the sky on an air line, tied on one side to a castle oh what a shame! train delayed by demonstrating Jains the rails they were laying finally killed the camel trade so they lay, arranged, backs on the tracks, all aghast at last: “outclass the caste with steadfast lambastes aimed to be broadcast!” Anathemas of Agra sell packages of bacc-o but black and beedied lungs may decay his patience for his station’s subjugation by the state I can see fireworks above the bay of bengal brilliantly scintillant, into the filth, they fall but everyone is just so amazed by it all they don’t notice the festering smoke spewing out the chimney of the world by sea on a single eve, Kringle must be nimble to encompass these quarter trillion domiciles drag the bags of milk, and then still find the time to alight on the Blighty Isles "My child defiles the gift-giving season rendered with greed and who the hell’s to blame?!” Please, in holy heaven’s name, the father is the son, together they are one, but now separated, not the same Christ wasn't born on this day, we’ll celebrate anyway observing pagan fêtes exchanging paltry presents makes as little sense as lifting all the tenets of the great buddha to spread your agenda prance through the town, in a paper crown bawling gaudily that you believe our god was born today
2.
Right now, I could be caroling with my pan flute on the streets at night there’s a crowd of children gathering in hopes that Im monied or at least replete Instead I fight the heat in our hotel room fever running high with christmas near and although I spent the day perched and purging I wasn’t purged of all my season's cheer O little potted plant by the radiator duct you have importance now to us just on this day O paper star on top in the warm and winter months when the monsoons move up north you lead the way But is there any difference between a hotel bathroom sink and a palace painted pink when the water everywhere is tainted brown? Maybe Ill be baptized dirty water cleans my soul Like a manger in a Jaipur toilet bowl
3.
Well I know that on Earth it is Christmas now And I hope there'll be days in the snow When I return many light years on Though my friends will have died long ago And the rain makes a sound like the asteroids There are worlds made of ice in the clouds I'm receiving transmissions they broadcast long ago They remind me of things I have seen All the people and cities and crowds Ring the bells, ring the bells, ring them Ring the bells, I can still hear them Here on the way to the stars About now back on earth it is Christmas time There'll be logs in the grate, they will burn I'm alone tape recording memories For it all will have changed when I return And the rain is so strange in the Milky Way I see cloudscapes of purple and green Candleabras are shooting off firework displays And I'm writing the things I have seen People shopping and sparks from a train Ring the bells, ring the bells, ring them Ring the bells, I can still hear them Here on the way to the stars Well I know that on Earth it is Christmas now But in space time goes by so slow At the speed of light one single night Is a year to the people back home

about

Shit Whitman's 2016 Christmas Single
tracks 1-2 by Malcolm, track 3 by Momus
Recorded at Chez Gifford & at the Whithaus on Dec. 24th & 25th
Mixed by Brendan Cornish & Malcolm at the Whithaus

lol the reviews are in:
"very effective version... sort of floppy in a good way!" - Momus

credits

released December 25, 2016

Aidan Meyer-Golden - bass (2-3)
Reuben Gifford - keys (2-3), harmonium (2-3), slide bass (3), perc.
Malcolm DC Ekman - guitar, vox, tablas (1-2), harmonium & bass (1) perc.

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about

Shit Whitman Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

odd pop for odd times
est. 2015

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