Spirit Of Christmas
Christmas fun, christmas cheer
It comes around every year
Presents, tree and food to buy,
It's more expensive, the questions why?
Smellies for mum, a tie for dad,
What about the kids? Let's not go mad.
Christmas morning kids awake
Bleary eyed parents their beds vacate
Christmas wrapping torn to shreds
Whilst sensible folk are still in bed
Who bought that for whom and why?
You often hear a parent cry?
It takes ‘D’ type batteries. How Many?
I’ll have a look, I doubt we have any
Why give presents, I’ll never know
Without the batteries to make 'em go
Quick sit down, nothing can go wrong
False sense of security, bloody Buble's on
Singing carols with that treacly voice of his
Whilst the missus drinks Buck's Fizz
From sofa to kitchen is an easy step
Best get on with the dinners prep
Turkey, pudding, the foods all bought,
The vegetables weren't an afterthought.
Pigs in blankets, stuffing too,
Roast potatoes, we love you.
A little voice is heard to shout
"Don't forget about the sprouts"
Those smelly evil balls so green
Like small cabbages, just obscene
It's nearly done, almost time,
The kitchen timer begins to chime,
The turkeys out, is it done?
It's all stressful, not much fun.
The family's hungry, they won't starve
Sharpen the knife, it's time to carve.
The knife cuts in, the juice is clear,
Wash hands, sit down, dinner’s near.
The food's all plated, the table’s laid,
Something's missing, no gravy made.
Gravy boats added to the orgy of food
Everyone's in the Christmas mood
You start if off by pulling crackers
Eye up your opponent 'coz technique matters
You need to win your prides at stake
Dear old granny's feelings you forsake
A quick bang and that moment of dread
As a plastic toy whizzes past your head
Did you win? Open your eyes take a look
You've got the big part alpha male. Thank fuck.
You put on the hat, your crowning glory
Look for the joke, bound to be corny
Rumblings and gurgles you hear from below
Best help yourself to the food on show
Have a bit of this and a lot of that
Join a gym in new year to burn off the fat
You clean the plate, another round beckons
You eye the table for the pick of seconds
You start to work up one of your meat sweats
Something your arse in the morning may regret
The last forkful goes in with some force
The table is cleared for the pudding course
Christmas pud, custard, chantilly cream
Brandy butter, a high cholesterol dream.
The lights dimmed for the main event
Mums given the brandy to circumvent
Last years eye singeing commotion
Following the massive explosion
Where dad had left a trail of liqueur
From kitchen to table via the floor
The puddings eaten, bellies past full
More to come from the feast bountiful
Even more food still to get through
Cheese and biscuits, petit fours too
Stuff our faces, we need to vomit
Now the Stilton, we don't learn from it
Pass the port, go on I'll have a sherry
Indigestion, anyone got a Rennie.
Lie on the sofa, fart and pass out
This is what Christmas is all about.
Graham Sherwood
Tue 20th Jan 2015 09:57
I think you've got it all in here Chris, so many nods of agreement reading this.
I remember thinking how awful it must be being an adult at Christmas when I was a child opening presents and all my dad had was a packet of fags, some hankies and some socks.
Memory lane personified,
Graham