Tim: Mr City’s been off for a while doing other stuff, but now he’s back to tell us about a problem he’s got.
Tom: So here’s the thing, Tim: I am not Christmassy this year. At all. Zero. I’ve had bad years in the past, but this is a new one: I’ve got absolutely no Christmas spirit. So I’m not expecting to…
Tom: …huh. That actually made me smile. That’s a surprise.
Tim: Well there you go – a festive treat, with an issue we can all relate to, lyrics to crack a smile here and there, and closing with a shout-out to, of all people, Magnus Carlsson! (Yes it definitely is a deliberate reference, no it definitely isn’t a coincidence, I don’t care how enormously unlikely it is that it would be a deliberate reference, I AM CERTAIN THAT IT IS.)
Tom: Mate, if the ‘Wrecking Ball’ ripoff yesterday wasn’t deliberate, I’m guessing this isn’t either.
Tim: Not listening, can’t hear you. One issue, though: if he really loves her but doesn’t know which of two restaurants she prefers, I’m sure something’s gone a bit wrong somewhere in the standard dating process. But never mind.
Tom: The lyrics are terrible. Can we just agree that the lyrics are terrible?
Tim: Yes, though I would direct you to the very first sentence you wrote about Good Time, and also your remarks on Alligator Sky. Complexity isn’t his strong point, you should expect that by now.
Tom: But you know what, the rest of the song is happy enough that I actually don’t mind. And, hell, “sorry for the hand towels” is actually a lovely little descant to put at the end.
Tim: It really is, and I’ll take this, because the lyrics may be dodgy, but they’re fun, and jingly, and lovely.