[UPDATE: Because alert readers have been steadily adding Christmas carols, I’m moving this to the top again. Heard James Brown’s Santa Claus Go Straight To The Ghetto today, and that put in mind of “Wingnut’s Roasting…,” which I’d never been able to complete—and downthread, “Rove’s Nuts Roasting” was contributed. Truly, Jesus is Magic.—Lambert]

I’ve been collecting Fitzmas Carols, mostly from Atrios’ comment threads but from other hithers and yons as I run across them.

We need more! Fitzmas day is coming soon…. Gather ye carols where ye may, and drop ’em off here. Credit will be given as indicated by the sender, if no other author is indicated it will be presumed to be authored BY the sender.

Oh, and MUSICALARKIES ONLY please! I have at least 16 versions of “The Night Before Fitzmas” but that’s a poem, not a song. Those are worthy of collection too, but Fitzmas music is like none other, beloved by all, transcending even theological differences.

Here are some that have been gathered so far:

It’s the most wonderful time of the year
With the Fitzy indicting
And Scotty back-biting
How can we not be of good cheer
It’s the most wonderful time of the year

It’s the hap-happiest season of all
With Wurmser a-telling
Miller a-selling
Her book come next fall
It’s the hap-happiest season of all

There’ll be champagne for drinking
Our flutes will be clinking
We’ll be laughing until we guffaw
There’ll be Duncan Black stories
And tales of his glories
We’re Atriots after all

It’s the most wonderful time of the year
The trolls will be crying
About all of our lying
And calling us crass
But they can all just kiss
My wine-loving ass!

(author: Monica_A)

Away in the slammer, no lube for his butt.
The little shit, Libby, cries out, “No! Enough!”
But Bubba, the father raper, will not be deterred.
He paid for this bitch and he likes what he’s heard!.
The little shit Libby, awakes with a jerk.
“Not now, JimmyJeff! I must get to work!”
Away to the White House, the little shit runs,
All down his pants leg and pools in his buns.
He checks in with Karl, and hears the bad news,
“Indictments unsealed! FUCK! Break out the booze!”

(author: Chris Tucker)

(Xan’s note: The following is not exactly a “traditional” tune, but hey, who am I to stand in the way of musical progress?)

“Fitzmas Wrapping”
(sung from Bush’s POV to the tune of The Waitresses’ “Christmas Wrapping” though influenced more by Save Ferris’ cover)

Part I

Woke up this morning hungover and with a scary feeling
Realized it was October 25th
Fitzmas oh my God it’s nearing
“What am I to do?” I said
Then I covered up my head
Prayed for sleep for two more months until this “Plamegate” mess is over
Wasn’t that lucky turned on the TV
Harriet Miers on the news
Suspended from the Texas Bar
‘Cause she forgot to pay her dues
So TV off, now I’m alone. Called my friend from Skull & Bones
Said to meet at Crawford for some Jim Beam and a stripper

Talked about our fear and dread of indictments and impeachment
Suddenly like a bad dream
Crawford is transformed into a liberal commie paradise, everywhere are protesters
Outside of their “Free Speech Zone” and where’re the Minutemen when you need’em?
Had to ride my bike to
Get away from all these hippies
Marching with their eggs and signs
Now where did Rummy hide those mines?
Suddenly I couldn’t ride
I couldn’t breathe I couldn’t move
Liberal traitors everywhere
Screaming “Impeach Bush Now!”

Merry Fitzmas Merry Fitzmas
But I think I’ll miss this one this year

Now Brownback’s throwing a fit cause
Miers thinks the Earth’s as old as she is
Maybe Dobson can calm him down
And talk to him more about Jesus
And she can’t fill out a freaking form?!
Guess they don’t teach that in law school
Aw, maybe I should cut her some slack
After all, she thinks I’m “superkewl!”
Yeah I guess I’m being a little too hard
She sent that nice Festivus card
Last year, and Barney likes her leg,
So I’ll invite her for Thanksgiving,
Which is right around the corner. Time to pardon turkee!
Though I’d rather watch it roast and hear it squawking “Please don’t kill me!”

Turkee Day again and everybody knows what that means
I’ve gotta jump through lots of hoops
Give an IM greeting to the troops
And then it’s back to Crawford for a dinner with the family
Mom’s being a total bitch, and dad won’t stop giving advice
Laura’s turkee’s worse than plastic Where the hell is Brownie?
He’s supposed to bring dessert
I guess a phone call wouldn’t hurt
And Jeb’s flirting with Kath again
Caught’em necking in the den
Maybe I should just tell mom and then I’ll be her favorite

Merry Fitzmas Merry Fitzmas
But I think I’ll miss this one this year

Needed a break from all these polls, so I did my Fitzmas shopping
Cigarettes for Unca Karl; got new boots and shoes for Condi
I sorta ruined her other pair, oh man, y’all should’ve seen it
But when I say “I gotta go,” now she knows I really mean it
The twins are getting Grey Goose, and BC pills for Lauren
That drug-store man was giving me lip; said I’m gonna burn in hell
New stem cell things for Unca Dick so he can grow a heart
Laura’s getting books, if I can find out where to score some…

Don and ‘Berto wanted cattle prods, electrodes and some choke-chains
I wonder what they want them for. Something to do with the War?
It’s nicer here than in D.C.,
But where’s that Cindy Sheehan grinch,
And all her smelly hippy friends?…
Wait, Jenna…those aren’t carolers!
Whew! Managed to shut the door in time
Before the Gold Star Families slime
Could ooze its way into my life
And ask me awkward kweschins that I
Just don’t feel like answering, especially on vacation
I think I need to play some golf for the good of the whole nation

Merry Fitzmas Merry Fitzmas
But I think I’ll miss this one this year

(author: Doncjesus)

Oh come all ye liberals,
socialists and patriots
oh come ye oh come ye to the Grand Jury.

Come and behold them
born of lies and mayhem,
oh come let us adore Fitz,
oh come let us adore Fitz,
oh come let us adore Fitz,
he’s the righteous dude.

(author: not noted. My bad)

Rove’s nuts roasting on an open fire
John Law nipping at his nose
Fitzmas carols being sung by a choir
And the perps dressed up like traffic cones

Everybody knows these turkeys in a prison cell
Would help to make the season bright
Eschateers with their eyes all aglow
Will find it hard to sleep tonight

They know that Fitz is on his way
He’s bringing twenty two indictments, so they say
And every Troll says no, just Wilson and his wife
Oh yes, those dipshits really know how to lie

And so I’m offering this simple phrase
To those Republicans who choose
Not the truth, but to lie in our face
Merry Fitzmas, you lose!
(author: Doozer)

Alt. version:

Rove’s nuts roasting on an open fire,
George Bush with a straw up his nose,
Federal indictments being read by a hour,
And folks dressed up in prison clothes.

Everybody knows aluminum tubes and some forgeries,
Help to make the war seem right.
LGFer’s with their eyes all aglow,
Will cry themselves asleep tonight.

They know that Fitz is on his way;
He’s got incriminating stuff on video tape.
Was Judith Miller really a Mossad spy?
Since Novak ratted, I think we know is going to die…

not naturally…I’m offering this simple praise
To Eschatonians, you Americans so true,
Although its been said many times, many ways,
A very Merry Fitzmas to you
(author: not noted. See above re. badness)

Have a holly, jolly Fitzmas;
It’s the best time of the year
At least for me, ’cause I’m still free
While you’re locked up in here

Have a holly, jolly Fitzmas;
As you sit there in your cell
Say Hello to Scoots and Rove
They’re both right there as well.

Oh, ho, the misery!
The fucking Grand Jury
Dropped a load of shit on you
My ass is still scot free!

Have a holly jolly Fitzmas,
With you cheeks clenched up in fear,
Oh by golly, have a holly,
jolly Fitzmas this year!

(author: Tsung-tu, the Tuna)

God rest ye Lefty Blogistan,
Let nothing you dismay,
Remember Pat Fitzgerald
Was born on Fitzmas Day;
To save us all from Dubya’s crew
Who’ve clearly gone astray.

O indictments of Scooter and Karl!
Scooter and Karl;
O indictments of Scooter and Karl!

In Brooklyn, in America,
This lawyer dude was born,
And laid within a bassinet
Upon that blessed morn;
The which His Mother what’shername
Did nothing take in scorn.

O indictments of Scooter and Karl!
Scooter and Karl;
O indictments of Scooter and Karl!

From Chi Town to Washington
Our Counselor did go;
And unto certain miscreants
Brought tidings of great woe;
To burn a Spook in Fitz’s book
Was lowest of the low.

O indictments of Scooter and Karl!
Scooter and Karl;
O indictments of Scooter and Karl!
(author: Tsung-tu, the Tuna)

Keep ’em comin’ folks…