Have yourself a morbid little Christmas

I am shocked, shocked to learn that Christmas songs don’t always spring, perfectly, from the hearts and souls of their creators.

Sometimes the first draft lacks a certain sweetness and light.

Sometimes the original can be downright creepy.

Consider “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” a cheery little ditty created for Judy Garland to sing in “Meet Me in St. Louis” (1944).

As we know the song, her mellow contralto urges us to make the Yuletide gay (OK, words change meaning), and forget our troubles, cuz we’ll always be together.

But the original words, by Ralph Blane and Hugh Martin, were a total downer. Yeah, have that Christmas, but “It may be your last. Next year we may all be living in the past.” And the friends who were dear to us “Will be near to us no more.”

Judy Garland refused to sing those words. They had to be changed to today’s peppy version.

But we know the truth. Joy to the world and all that, but lurking below it, always, is the true spirit of Christmas:

Bah humbug!