I have in my head an old fir tree, a crib underneath
A Saint Joseph with a rubber cane
It was poorly made and I was cold
When I came back from spending three hours in an igloo
That we had made, two or three guys at Guy Rondoux's

I have before my eyes, when I'm happy, a kind of game
That we had, a kind of barn with oxen
The same year when I spent
The holiday season with a hockey toque on my head
Because I wanted to pass myself off as Doug Harvey

December 23rd "Merry Christmas, Mr. Côté"
"Hi little guy, we'll see each other again on January 7th"

I have on my heart a New Year's Day where my parents
Thinking they were doing well, had dressed me as a communicant
At my grandmother's, it was my father
Who disguised himself as Santa Claus to make believe
That the gifts didn't all come from Dupuis Brothers

December 23rd "Merry Christmas, Mr. Côté"
"Hi little guy, we'll see each other again on January 7th"

Sometimes I feel like going to see her and talking to her
Star fairy, can I have another hockey?
I lost mine, beautiful without design
I exchanged it for photos where you can't see anything
A girl from behind who hides her buttocks with her hands

December 23rd "Merry Christmas, Mr. Côté"
"Hi little guy, we'll see each other again on January 7th"

December 23rd "Merry Christmas, Mr. Côté"
"Hi little guy, we'll see each other again on January 7th"

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