This is about bronies. They communicate by stomping.
It was Christmas Eve babe
In the drunk tank
An old man said to me, won't see another one
And then he sang a song
The Rare Old Mountain Dew
I turned my face away
And dreamed about you
Got on a lucky one
Came in eighteen to one
I've got a feeling
This year's for me and you
So happy Christmas
I love you baby
I can see a better time
When all our dreams come true
They've got cars big as bars
They've got rivers of gold
But the wind goes right through you
It's no place for the old
When you first took my hand
On a cold Christmas Eve
You promised me
Broadway was waiting for me
You were handsome
You were pretty
Queen of New York City
When the band finished playing
They howled out for more
Sinatra was swinging
All the drunks they were singing
We kissed on a corner
Then danced through the night
The boys of the NYPD choir
Were singing Galway Bay
And the bells were ringing out
For Christmas day
You're a bum
You're a punk
You're an old slut on junk
Lying there almost dead on a drip in that bed
You scumbag, you maggot
You cheap lousy faggot
Happy Christmas your arse
I pray God it's our last
The boys of the NYPD choir
Still singing Galway Bay
And the bells are ringing out
For Christmas day
I could have been someone
Well so could anyone
You took my dreams from me
When I first found you
I kept them with me babe
I put them with my own
Can't make it all alone
I've built my dreams around you
The boys of the NYPD choir
Still singing Galway Bay
And the bells are ringing out
For Christmas day
In the drunk tank
An old man said to me, won't see another one
And then he sang a song
The Rare Old Mountain Dew
I turned my face away
And dreamed about you
Got on a lucky one
Came in eighteen to one
I've got a feeling
This year's for me and you
So happy Christmas
I love you baby
I can see a better time
When all our dreams come true
They've got cars big as bars
They've got rivers of gold
But the wind goes right through you
It's no place for the old
When you first took my hand
On a cold Christmas Eve
You promised me
Broadway was waiting for me
You were handsome
You were pretty
Queen of New York City
When the band finished playing
They howled out for more
Sinatra was swinging
All the drunks they were singing
We kissed on a corner
Then danced through the night
The boys of the NYPD choir
Were singing Galway Bay
And the bells were ringing out
For Christmas day
You're a bum
You're a punk
You're an old slut on junk
Lying there almost dead on a drip in that bed
You scumbag, you maggot
You cheap lousy faggot
Happy Christmas your arse
I pray God it's our last
The boys of the NYPD choir
Still singing Galway Bay
And the bells are ringing out
For Christmas day
I could have been someone
Well so could anyone
You took my dreams from me
When I first found you
I kept them with me babe
I put them with my own
Can't make it all alone
I've built my dreams around you
The boys of the NYPD choir
Still singing Galway Bay
And the bells are ringing out
For Christmas day
Lyrics submitted by iKickDogs, edited by RetroUltraModern
Fairytale of New York Lyrics as written by Shane Patrick Lysaght Macgowan Jem Finer
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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The key is the last line of the first verse......"I turned my face away, and dreamed about you" The old man sings a sentimental song about whiskey and the drunk man has a dream....the dream takes place in the late 40's, early 50's, when he first met the girl of his dreams, who apparently was an Irish immigrant (she talks about NY as if she is hearing about it in Ireland before she comes.....Cars big as bars, rivers of gold, but a cold win, and no place for old people) In the dream, several things become clear, either he (also an Irish immigrant) talked her into coming to America ("you promised that Broadway was waiting for me"), or he was a NY Irishman who met her here and swept her off her feet on a Christmas eve when Sinatra was playing and everything was Magical.....They are also both now older and have serious drug problems (he, alcohol, she, heroin) ...they talk to each other like alcoholics....overly sentimental one moment, nasty insults the next.... It's possible they are still together, but I think it's not likely....I think she was the great love of his life, and he is dreaming that he is talking to her.....almost as if the two dying spirits are reconciling.....he never really stopped loving her in his drunken way....and it's not too late for them to reconcile somehow in the spirit world, with the grace of forgiveness that comes with Christmas....that Christmas eve memory being the great moment of their lives.... the "got on a lucky one" refernece means he hit it big at the track on an 18 to 1 horse, and took it to mean that he was on a roll, and that his luck would be good, and times would improve.....
@samthesham I think that it starts as a dream but then the reality intrudes when they start insulting each other.