The sound of Christmas is the ringing of the tills,

and weeping as you wave goodbye to dollar bills.

You’ll see last-minute shoppers queueing in the streets,

shopkeepers rubbing hands around the balance sheets.

 

Then family assemble for a massive feast,

till visibly you see their waistlines have increased,

proceed to drown it with a plethora of booze,

then say if not for kids we wouldn’t have these do’s.

 

And those same kids will hang their stockings on the wall,

so big that they would fit inside them, boots and all,

in hopes the fabled fat man fills them up with loot

with or without the reindeer and the fancy suit.

 

So then when all the pigging out is said and done

it’s time to count the cost for those few days of fun.

Don’t try to say there is no price on memories,

‘cause for a while we’ll have to live on bread and cheese.