[This evening the city might want to be grateful that Robert Chase has what might be described as a decent singing voice, even when, as now, it's coming out faintly slurred through the wires.]I ain't laughing
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And if, my baby girl When you're twenty-one or thirty-one And Christmas comes around And you find yourself nine thousand miles from home You'll know what ever comes Your brother and sisters and me and your Mum Will be waiting for you in the sun Whenever you come Your brothers and sisters, your aunts and your uncles Your grandparents, cousins and me and your mum We'll be waiting for you in the sun Drinking white wine in the sun Darling, when Christmas comes We'll be waiting for you in the sun Drinking white wine in the sun Waiting for you in the sun Waiting for you... Waiting...
[Saya thinks about this for a moment, then opens her mouth. What comes out is technically lovely - Saya has a very nice voice, actually, but it's oddly...odd. A little flat.]
The snow's coming down, I'm watching it fall, Watching the people come round, Baby please come home.
You're singing.
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If I do this right, I'll have forgotten it happened by tomorrow.
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I really like Christmas.
It's sentimental I know, but I just really like it.
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It's up to you. I won't force you either way.
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[This is a joke, so we're clear.]
And if, my baby girl
When you're twenty-one or thirty-one
And Christmas comes around
And you find yourself nine thousand miles from home
You'll know what ever comes
Your brother and sisters and me and your Mum
Will be waiting for you in the sun
Whenever you come
Your brothers and sisters, your aunts and your uncles
Your grandparents, cousins and me and your mum
We'll be waiting for you in the sun
Drinking white wine in the sun
Darling, when Christmas comes
We'll be waiting for you in the sun
Drinking white wine in the sun
Waiting for you in the sun
Waiting for you...
Waiting...
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The snow's coming down,
I'm watching it fall,
Watching the people come round,
Baby please come home.
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...Cursed?
[He knows the answer. It's the same as asking 'why?']
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They're singing Deck the Halls,
But it's not like Christmas at all.
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Are you worried about me?
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I don't worry very much.
[She knows that's not a very personable answer.]
I think you're on a self-destructive path, and I like you. I would rather you not go down that road.
Is that worry?
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High-functioning?
That sounds like a form of disease. A high-functioning alcoholic.
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