Manhattan Transfer - that's a blast from the past, you don't hear about them at all these days.
When my step-children were little, it was a ritual for their dad to recite the following verse at the Christmas table when the pudding came in, which made them shriek in anticipation of the final word - which was never said of course lol!
It was Christmas Day in the workhouse And the snow was falling fast Upspoke the poor old pauper.. "We don't want your Christmas pudding Stick it up your.....chimney!"
We had a French teacher at school who taught us hymns and carols and accompanied us on an ancient, clapped out miniature harmonium. I always loved these two:
Don't ask me what I think of you, I might not give the answer that you want me to.