Every Christmas, all the churches would erect a little crèche
And they’d wash or paint the figures, for to keep the colors fresh
It was beautiful, and private, in the shadow of the steeple
But of course it made them wish they could display it to the people
So they put one by the courthouse, where it hadn’t been before,
And if anyone’s offended—this means war!

If the birth of Christ’s depiction gets a special public place
Then the constitution tells us that it has to share that space
So there might be a menorah, or a snowman, or a tree,
Cos if you can put your symbol there, the same applies to me
Till the courthouse is a meeting-place for holidays galore
Universal and inclusive—this means war!

Now the spirit of the season is expressed in giving gifts
It’s a secular occasion—not just Christian spirit lifts
You’ll find kids who write to Santa Claus, but now you have to search
For a solemn observation of Nativity in church
The people have forgotten what the holiday is for
And everyone loves Christmas—this means war!

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