Criminal Christmas Carols | Toni L.P. Kelner

My husband Steve and I wrote these songs for a promotional booklet when Mad as the Dickens came out, and also used them in our Christmas card for Christmas 2001.

Hark the Mystery Writers Sing
(To the tune of “Hark the Herald Angels Sing”)

Hark the mystery writers sing
Advertising murderous things
Gripping tales of crimes most vile
Law and order reconciled
Listen, all you readers rise
Join us as we cacophonize
With off-kilter voice proclaim
Silly songs about mayhem.
Hark the mystery writers sing
Advertising murderous things.

Sherlock and Dr. Watson
(To the tune of “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer”)

You know Sam Spade and Kinsey
And Archie and Nero
VI Warshawski,
And old Hercule Poirot.
But do you recall
The most famous detectives of all?
Sherlock and Dr. Watson
Rode around in hansom cabs
Looking for thefts and murders
Sherlock even had a lab
All of the London coppers
Used to laugh and call them names
They never let our sleuths
Solve a crime along the Thames
Then one foggy Christmas Eve
Lestrade came to say
Sherlock, with your keen insight
Won’t you solve a case tonight?
Then all the coppers loved them
And they shouted out with glee
Sherlock and Dr. Watson
You’ll go down in mystery!

Mysteries
(To the tune of “Silver Bells”)

Tough detectives, smart detectives
Dressed in wrinkled trench coats.
In the air there’s a feeling of menace.

Suspects lying, fists a-flying,
Breaking smile after smile,
And on every street corner you’ll hear:

Mysteries, mysteries,
It’s time to get dark and gritty.
Breaking bones, hear them moan,
He’ll wrap this case up today.

In the suburb, peaceful suburb,
hidden crime after crime,
A sleuth gets herself into trouble.

Buried secrets, nosey questions,
Setting up crazy traps,
And above all this bustle you’ll hear:

Mysteries, Mysteries,
It’s cozy time near the city.
Works alone, had she but known,
She’ ll wrap this case up today.

The Cozy Days of Mystery
(To the tune of “The Twelve Days of Christmas”)

On the twelfth day of mystery my true love gave to me
Twelve nosey neighbors
Eleven vicars tippling
Ten Lord Peter Wimseys
Nine ladies lying
Eight maids gone missing
Seven suspicious butlers
Six stolen brooches
Five poisoned scones
Four blackmail notes
Three family ghosts
Two stately homes
And a cozy murder mystery

The Hardboiled Days of Mystery
(To the tune of “The Twelve Days of Christmas”)

On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love gave to me
Twelve psycho sidekicks
Eleven gangland bosses
Ten dicks hung over
Nine cops gone crooked
Eight missing partners
Seven snitches snitching
Six seamy bars
Five smoking guns
Four femmes fatales
Three Mickey Finns
Two trench coats
And a hardboiled murder mystery

The Godfather’s Boy
(To the tune of “The Little Drummer Boy”—in Soprano)

Come they told me
Ba bing bada bing
The Godfather to see,
Ba bing bada bing
A gift they said to bring
Ba bing bada bing
And made me kiss his ring.
Ba bing bada bing, Bing bada bing, bing bada bing
Then I swore to him
Ba bing bada bing
I’ll never sing.

Oh, Godfather
Ba bing bada bing
I am a wise guy, too
Ba bing bada bing
I got no gift to bring
Ba bing bada bing
That’s worth anything
Ba bing bada bing, Bing bada bing, bing bada bing
Should I shoot for you
Ba bing bada bing
With a big gun.

So he nodded
Ba bing bada bing
Sent me out on a hit
Ba bing bada bing
And I shot for him
Ba bing bada bing
Took someone out for him
Ba bing bada bing, Bing bada bing, bing bada bing
And he smiled at me
Ba bing bada bing
Me and my gun.

God Rest Ye Merry Mystery Fans
(To the tune of “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen”)

God rest ye merry mystery fans,
Let nothing you dismay,
Remember mystery writers
Are scribbling away,
To save us all from boring books
And newspapers today

Oh, reading for comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy,
Keep reading for comfort and joy.

Remember all the cozy tales,
Remember the PIs
Remember the procedurals,
Which always dot their i’s
So many tales of crime and law
Available to buy

Oh, reading for comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy,
Keep reading for comfort and joy.

And if you buy these mysteries,
A pleasure it will be
For writers who sell books, write more,
When money sets them free
Buy lots, for all they get is just
A tiny royalty

Oh, reading for comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy,
Keep reading for comfort and joy.