A Musical Spree
for Narrator and Chorus
text by Craig Sturgis
music written or adapted, arranged, orchestrated, & otherwise enhanced by Larry Moore
CHORUS
Christmas Day is 'round the bend
And ev'rybody is happy.
Ev'ry clown in town's your friend,
All sentimental and sappy.
Oh, oh, the joy of Christmastide!
Go, go, and take your money and hide
From all the crowd who long and loud assail you
With exhortations to buy.
If you fill their cup, you can pucker up
And kiss your cash goodbye.
NARRATOR
Yes, 'tis the fickle, festive season
During which we all lose reason,
For on these days, above the rest,
We plunge into what we love best:
Not trimming trees, nor party-hopping,
But that greatest joy of Christmas: shopping!
CHORUS
Tomorrow shall be my shopping day.
I'll wrap myself warmly in coat, hat, and glove.
I adore the crowds when push comes to shove.
For oh! to shop is my true love.
For oh! to shop, oh! to shop to shop to shop
For oh! to shop is my true love.
NARRATOR
Christmas brings enchanting sights,
Decked-out halls and twinkling lights.
As we make our shopping rounds,
Hark! what are these dulcet sounds?
Above the muzak's tinny din,
It's "Welcome, Shoppers! Step right in!"
CHORUS
Gladsome tidings heard on high,
Store announcements wall to wall;
Who, what, where, when, why to buy
Echoing through all the mall.
Euphoria! In excess all day-o.
Euphoria! In excess all day-o.
NARRATOR
Where'er we look, commercials nag
From TV, billboard, tabloid, mag.
This avalanche of warm advice
Proclaims great steals - in spite of price.
CHORUS
Hark how the ads,
Mountains of ads,
All seem to say
Throw cash away.
| Spend it today. | Moo- |
| Visa's okay. | lah! |
| Amex'll do. | Moo- |
| Mastercard, too. | lah! |
| Buy through the mails. | Moo- |
| Holiday sales. | lah! |
| It's Christmastime. | Moo- |
| Spend ev'ry dime. | lah! |
Keep in the red.
Cough up the bucks.
Cough up the bread.
| Spend money here. | Oh |
| Spend in good cheer. | how |
| Give us your dough, | gaily the |
| Then you can go. | sales ring up. |
Christmas is here. Sales are in gear.
Till you're broke, it isn't really Christmas.
Till you're broke, it isn't really Christmas.
| Spend it today. | Buy! |
| Visa's okay. | Buy! |
| Amex'll do. | Buy! |
| Mastercard, too. | Buy! |
| Hark how the ads, | Buy! |
All seem to say
Throw cash away.
NARRATOR
We assemble our gift list, review it, and then,
Every few minutes, revise it again.
The worries of guilt by omission wax stronger.
So, though time grows short, our list grows longer.
CHORUS
Your sister, your brother,
Your third cousin from Poughkeepsie,
Your girlfriend, your boyfriend,
Your shrink (who is getting dipsy),
Your current, your ex
(Even though he is still a smoker),
Your agent, your bookie,
Your broker who makes you broker,
Nine nieces, four nephews,
Your pal (who is somewhat shady),
Your boss, your assistant,
The new office-cleaning lady,
Your old high school buddies
(Although you don't even write 'em),
Your parents, your stepfolks,
Your fam'ly ad infinitum.
Ten bucks for that joke of a mailman is plenty.
Ten bucks for the mailman?
You'd best make it twenty.
Your kid's fourth grade teacher,
The coach and the preacher.
The stylist who moved to Laverne's Beauty Stop.
Now get out there, baby, and shop till you drop!
Now get out there, baby, and shop till you drop!
NARRATOR
Though not widely known, it is none the less fantastic
That, on the eighth day, God created plastic.
CHORUS
God bless the merry credit card.
It makes the Yuletide gay.
Pull out that piece of plastic and
You'll never have to pay
Until the gifts are broken,
All used up, or thrown away.
Then the bills come. Let nothing you dismay.
Just pay.
And pay . . . and pay . . . and pay.
NARRATOR
As we ascend to the holiday's height,
We step in deep puddles of tension and spite.
Sidewalk Santas sneer at stingy strollers,
And singers, those ancient yuletide carol trollers,
Get sick of repeating "Noël" and "God rest ye."
Goodwill has gone ga-ga, and everyone's testy.
CHORUS
Not much time
Left to shop.
Pin for Mom.
Tie for Pop.
Lots of dough
Still to drop.
One more day to do it.
Grit'll see you through it.
Gird your loins, loins, loins.
Spend those coins, coins, coins.
Okey-doke,
Go for broke.
Trust us, you can do it.
NARRATOR
At last, Christmas Eve! Our skin's all a-tingle!
We issue our list of demands to Kris Kringle.
CHORUS
I'm leaving you this letter
Beneath my Christmas tree
Where, Santa-dude, there'd better
Be something swank for me.
Now all I want is tons of
Nice gifts to warm my soul,
For I have shopped my buns off,
And now I'm on the dole.
NARRATOR
And now December Twenty-five,
Awash in wrappings, doth arrive. . . .
. . . And leaves as swiftly. Where'd it go?
Drenched in debt, despair, and snow,
We huddle together, entirely spent
(As is all our money, including the rent).
CHORUS
Frigidly,
We lament.
Once had dough,
Now it's spent.
So we live
In a tent.
Wicked winter weather
Keeps us close together.
As we freeze, freeze, freeze,
And we sneeze, sneeze, sneeze,
Christmas cheer, toasted here,
Keeps [ACHOO!] together.
NARRATOR
But life is not rotten. Hope is not lost.
More gifts can be gotten, all lowered in cost!
The post-Christmas clearance now comes into play.
So, as we all leave you, please, have a nice day.
CHORUS
A sale! A sale! All over the town!
The season is done
So the prices are down.
The prices are down
As low as can be,
So I'll buy lots of stuff,
For no one but me.
Me!
Me!
Me!
Me!
- - - - - - - - - -
Copyright Craig Sturgis. All rights reserved.
Don't steal these words. That would be unfair, as well as illegal. The words were written by Craig Sturgis and are Copyright by him. "Tomorrow Shall Be My ShoppingDay" is arranged for SATB chorus or for TTBB chorus. An orchestration is available for rental as well. All are available from Yelton Rhodes Music.
