Holiday Sing-Along with Ellen

From Thanksgiving through New Years, musicians like Ellen the Harpist enjoy being a part of a bountiful cornucopia of concerts, church services, and Christmas parties. The thrill of playing so much wonderful music diminishes at some point during the third week of gigging without a day off. Visions of dancing sugarplums morph into nightmares of frantically replacing broken strings during intermission while unsuccessfully dodging conversations with curious audience members. Ellen tries to keep from going bonkers by singing her own versions of the pesky seasonal ear worms she has been playing all month. Let’s take a listen:

Sung to the tune WHITE CHRISTMAS by Irving Berlin

I’m dreaming of the day after Christmas.

Just 16 concerts left to play.

Then they’ll be no more Britten or

Songs about mittens

And dreidels fashioned out of clay.

I’m dreaming of a day without Rutter

Or that infernal Nutcracker.

You may say I’m a slacker. It’s true.

I can’t wait ’till concert season’s through.

Ellen’s version of Let it Snow! Let it Snow! Let it Snow! by Sammy Cahn + Jule Styne

Oh! the traffic out there is frightful,

And the drivers all are spiteful.

And since I’ve got somewhere to go,

Don’t go slow! Don’t go slow! Don’t go slow!

When I finally get to work

I can’t find a place to park my car.

Why did he steal my spot? What a jerk!

Harp in tow, I can’t walk far.

I’m loaded up like a soldier

Bags on both my shoulders.

Through a crowded lobby I must go.

Don’t go slow! Don’t go slow! Don’t go slow!

A disgruntled harpist corrupts Winter Wonderland by Richard Smith + Felix Bernard

Snowballs form on my harp cart.

Wheels are stuck, I can’t start

To roll it along so I sing my song:

I’m stranded in a wintry parking lot.

Carol of the Hungry Harpist (aka Carol of the Bells by M. Leontovich)

I need to eat. When can I eat? What can I eat? How can I eat?

I don’t have the time to eat a meal

Last night as I was driving I

Tried to eat some

Pretzels but I

Took a turn too sharply and the bag spilled

Leaving me with crumbs and hunger still. But

What do I see? Plates of cookies! Thank the Ladies Auxiliary!

I ate my fill.

Something less joyful than Leroy Anderson’s SLEIGH RIDE

Just hear those French horns blaring

And the oboist swearing at his reed.

I’ll play my glisses less full-hearted

‘Cause my fingers have started to bleed.

Ellen complains loudly to the tune of Silver Bells by Jay Livingston + Ray Evans

Strings are breaking, strings are popping.

I can’t keep them in tune.

My poor harp now sounds more like a banshee.

Where’s my tuner? There’s a rumor

That the check won’t come soon.

Why do I keep agreeing to play

Every day? Every day.

I have agreed to too many

Gigs to play. It’s OK.

I’ll have no work after New Year’s Day.

The end is in sight as she sings a chorus of Auld Lang Syne by Robert Burns

Should I be worried I forgot

To buy gifts for half my friends?

Should each acquaintance be forgot

By an overworked dear friend?

I’m overworked each December.

I have no time to shop.

We’ll take a glass of something strong

When the concerts finally stop.


Here’s wishing all of you a beautiful — and not too stressful — holiday season!


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