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"Christmas, Christmas (or Whatever)" is the ending music that plays during the credits sequence of both "A Camp Camp Christmas, or Whatever" and "St. Campbell's Day", making it the first ending music to play in more than one episode. It was written and performed by Richie Branson. Its tune follows that of God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, an English Christmas carol.

Lyrics[]

Stop the tape: climate change is real.
So all I want for Christmas is a legislative deal
Or better yet, Santa, let me get a major deal
With a million up front just so I can pay the bills
 
Aww shit, forgot the cranberry sauce
I’ve been naughty, I’m a man very lost
Ain’t got a nightlife cause I’m banned in every bar
But every time I rock the stage, fans stare in awe
 
Spit a cold verse till I caught a chest cold
But nonetheless, I got a stocking full of fresh coals
Damn Santa, could I get a pair of retros?
I just wanna shine like I got a fucking red nose
 
Haven’t caught the spirit in forever
When I was writing letters asking Santa for a Sega
Well, guess I gotta get my shit together
Wishing you a Merry Christmas or whatever
 
I don’t got no presents but I’ll give you Christmas rhymes
I don’t like ugly sweaters but I’ll wear them winter-time
I think my camp director might be serving prison time
And I really hate the weather
Christmas time, Christmas time
 
Dear Santa, I know I’ve been a wicked sinner
But at the very least, could I get a fidget spinner?
Last season was the worst winter
But then team team turned it all around with a turkey dinner
 
Head bobbin' to a ragin' banger
Sounding like they came out of an '80s pager
Three men in a mangy manger
Somebody tell baby J "stranger danger!"
 
They used to talk about me bad when I kick a flow
And now they kissin' my ass, no need for mistletoe
That’s a figure of speech, don’t take it literal,
cause I don’t think my ass is very kissable
 
I got Jack Frost nipping at my toes
If I take another sip of Jack, my liver's toast
That could’ve been the greatest thing I ever wrote
I know it’s hard to swallow like a dreidel in the throat
Richie
 
I don’t got no presents but I’ll give you Christmas rhymes
I don’t like ugly sweaters but I’ll wear them winter-time
I think my camp director might be serving prison time
And I really hate the weather
Christmas time, Christmas time
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