A Christmas Song

Sitting here all alone and dreadfully bored, I thought I’d try my hand at writing a Christmas song. I’ll be sitting here tomorrow, munching on my solitary Christmas dinner with nothing better to do and writing a Christmas tune might just distract me from my melancholia for a time. It will only be a normal Sunday dinner, actually, as I couldn’t buy a turkey drumstick for one at the shop today. They’d cleared all the cheap stuff to replace it with all the stuff I can’t afford to buy, like turkey crowns, legs of pork and pigs in blankets and spam. Still, never mind, I like chicken better anyway, even if it is only a value range frozen leg. That’s if I can be bothered to cook it. If I start boozing early, I probably won’t feel like eating anyway. Lot of bother to go to just to sit and eat alone. Might as well pull a cracker by yourself and sit there crying with a paper hat on. I should be used to it by now. Been alone on Christmas day for the last dozen years. Shouldn’t dwell on all my problems, though. Got to try and stay cheerful. Yep, cheerful. Anyway, let’s give this Christmas ditty a whirl and see what I can come up with.

It’s going to be a cold lonely Christmas without you
Why did you have to die
If I’d only seen that truck a’coming
I wouldn’t have tossed those keys so high

It’s going to be a bloody miserable Christmas without you
If those wheels had missed your head
My darling Christmas angel
You wouldn’t be quite so dead

It’s going to be complete shit this Christmas without you
I’m going to miss your sprouts
One taste and I knew I’d found the one
Though mother had her doubts

I’m going to fucking hate this Christmas without you
No sex, no presents, no lunch.
All because of two left feet
Well thanks a fucking bunch

It’s bollocks that my Christmas is being ruined without you
My mother could be right
You threw yourself under that truck
Just out of fucking spite

You think you’ve fucked my Christmas being without you
But your sister’s looking sleek
Some may think it’s way too soon
Though since you croaked, it’s been a week

Christmas might not be as bad as I was expecting without you
Talked to sis and I’m on a winner
As for your mum, what a star
She’s going to cook my dinner

I don’t think I’m really in the right spirit here and I can’t see this rivalling Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas. Not so much a song, not even a poem, it’s doggerel. I’m famous for it. I should write for greeting cards. I can make any old shit rhyme. I once came up with fleshy totem – manly scrotum, and that is rhyming of the very highest order, even if it is a bit creepy.

Anyway, hope you see the joke in all this because, if I have to explain, it won’t affect the same effect. And that last sentence is either very clever or very wrong…




About tonyjayg

I'm a great bloke. That's all you need to know. ;)
This entry was posted in Funny-Peculiar, Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to A Christmas Song

  1. ChasC says:

    As a lyricist myself, I’d have to say don’t give up the day job!

    Happy Christmas

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