So Christmas –You’ve come again
Like the old gigolo that you are.
But far, from giving up
You continually sup
the mulled whines of the mothers,
Like turkeys plucked
Whoa Christmas – Hold your Caribou
Austerity Britain, with it’s canny cope citizens,
at Crimbo, bar a few
posh etonians, who thanks to you
Are quids in
with kids in limbo
Go Christmas, play Kerplunk with baby Jesus
Who sees us, all, stressed, depressed, at our best,
only when drunk and
greeting about a Christmas
blast, from the past,
still jingling in our ears.
No Christmas, let the status quo be
stocking up all the year round with
good cheer, merriment, joy, love and much fear
Not a lot to ask?
Then take a note
Dear Santa and Jesus
Please us .