When not fronting the Falling Martins (www.fallingmartins.com), Pierce Crask strums his guitar around town unaccompanied, weaving his original material in among rock standards from Van Morrison to Led Zeppelin. Between songs he spouts off stories and one-liners that almost always elicit a groan and a grin. His holiday opus, "St. Charles Christmas," is more of the same. It's the song his groupies beg him to play in the dead of summer, and when he does, they shush their friends and implore them to listen to its lyrics. Crask gets to the real themes that unite humanity around the holidays: midnight abortions, racist jokes, cousins you consider sexually confused and others you'd just consider, uh, sexually after enough booze nothing is sacred. The punch lines sneak up and smack the jaw like a stockingful of candy canes, sweet and severe. It's a little bit of Christmas all year round.