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Boxing Day. Copyright Me. Mitts off.
'Twas the day after Christmas and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring,not even a mouse
The family was gathered in front of the fire
Whilst the pile of wrapped paper got steadily higher
Father was slumped in his chair gently snoozing
The cat at his feet lapping up his spilled booze and
Mama stretched out on the couch in her apron
The children hid deep under piles of paper and
Tinsel and chains and big gift-wrapped boxes
Selection trays,ties,underpants and new socks is
Strewn on the floor and all lying about,
With the occasional part of a child sticking out.
Mama and Papa are too tired and unable
To reach the Quality Street scattered out on the table.
The TV is blaring,but nobody's listening
And the angel on top of the tree is still glistening
But looking uncomfortable turned upside down
By a pair of small hands when no-one else was around.
The needles they all fall from the tree to the carpet
And cover the cat who was lying unguarded
Asleep on the rug with a long outstretched paw
On the mince pie that's trod on and squished on the floot
Mama with her squeaker and Papa with his hat
Which silently slides off and lands on the cat
Who has eaten too much to be moved from her place,
So the party hat sits there,just perched on her face,
Whilst on the table,the turkey sits glumly
Half-devoured yet still able to feed the family till Monday,
With the table all covered in dishes and shards
Of the star that went flying during Father's charades
Now Papa from his slumber soon will be woken
By the hamster that's eaten his Monopoly token
But for now he is dreaming of cigars and of port
Of the wonderful presents he wished he'd been bought
And a plump golden bird with firm juicy breast
A magnificent turkey that's truly the best
And Mama on her sofa drifts off in her dreams
Of mince pies with lashings of warm clotted cream
And hot spas with massage to beat winter blues
Superb entertainment and unlimited booze
And both when they waken will make a firm pact
Next year will be different,there's no going back
No snoozing or dishes,no kids playing hell,
Next year-Boxing Day,we will book a hotel!
'Twas the day after Christmas and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring,not even a mouse
The family was gathered in front of the fire
Whilst the pile of wrapped paper got steadily higher
Father was slumped in his chair gently snoozing
The cat at his feet lapping up his spilled booze and
Mama stretched out on the couch in her apron
The children hid deep under piles of paper and
Tinsel and chains and big gift-wrapped boxes
Selection trays,ties,underpants and new socks is
Strewn on the floor and all lying about,
With the occasional part of a child sticking out.
Mama and Papa are too tired and unable
To reach the Quality Street scattered out on the table.
The TV is blaring,but nobody's listening
And the angel on top of the tree is still glistening
But looking uncomfortable turned upside down
By a pair of small hands when no-one else was around.
The needles they all fall from the tree to the carpet
And cover the cat who was lying unguarded
Asleep on the rug with a long outstretched paw
On the mince pie that's trod on and squished on the floot
Mama with her squeaker and Papa with his hat
Which silently slides off and lands on the cat
Who has eaten too much to be moved from her place,
So the party hat sits there,just perched on her face,
Whilst on the table,the turkey sits glumly
Half-devoured yet still able to feed the family till Monday,
With the table all covered in dishes and shards
Of the star that went flying during Father's charades
Now Papa from his slumber soon will be woken
By the hamster that's eaten his Monopoly token
But for now he is dreaming of cigars and of port
Of the wonderful presents he wished he'd been bought
And a plump golden bird with firm juicy breast
A magnificent turkey that's truly the best
And Mama on her sofa drifts off in her dreams
Of mince pies with lashings of warm clotted cream
And hot spas with massage to beat winter blues
Superb entertainment and unlimited booze
And both when they waken will make a firm pact
Next year will be different,there's no going back
No snoozing or dishes,no kids playing hell,
Next year-Boxing Day,we will book a hotel!