On the First day of Christmas my true love said to me,
"I’ve brought a nice fresh turkey and a proper Christmas tree."
On the Second day of Christmas much laughter could be heard,
As we tucked into our turkey, a most delicious bird.
On the Third day of Christmas came the people from next door,
The turkey tasted just as good as it had the day before.
On the Fourth day of Christmas came relations, young and old,
We finished up the Christmas pud and had the turkey cold.
On the Fifth day of Christmas outside the snowflakes scurried,
But we were nice and warm inside – we had the turkey curried.
On the Sixth day of Christmas the Christmas spirit died,
The children fought and bickered – we had the turkey fried.
On the Seventh day of Christmas my true love she did wince,
When we sat down at the table to have our turkey mince.
On the Eighth day of Christmas we were drinking home made brew,
As if that weren’t bad enough – for tea was turkey stew.
On the Ninth day of Christmas by lunchtime I was blotto,
I knew that bird would be back again, this time as risotto.
On the Tenth day of Christmas the dog had run for shelter,
He’d seen the turkey pancakes and my glass of Alka Seltzer.
On the Eleventh day of Christmas the Christmas tree was moulting,
With Chilli, Soy and Oyster sauce, the turkey was revolting.
On the Twelfth day of Christmas I had a smile upon my lips,
The guests had gone, the turkey too – We dined on fish and chips.