Santa me arse,
Well it’s that time of year again and I’m a little miffed,
At the amount of so called friends that are expecting a gift,
They seem to be excited that it is the season of good will,
Where we all have to be nice to each other well I’ve had my fill,
I’ve worked hard all year and tried to make some cash,
And now my so called pals all want to give my savings a bash,
They call each day to say hello and is there anything I need,
Even then it’s become a chore as now them I have to feed,
She is in the kitchen saying he cooks a lovely Christmas dinner,
Yet on our annual trip to mass she says confess to being a sinner,
And all the bad things you have done throughout this year,
Will be forgotten and see your conscience clear,
Well I’ve had it with this so called x-mas good will to all men,
And sending cards to people I’ve not seen in years maybe 10,
Then spending all day long putting up the lights and a tree,
As far as I can gather there is nothing in this season for me,
But it’s my fault 4 not removing batteries from something,
And while it was in the attic all year I didn’t hear it sing,
Flowers must be bought from the local florist,
And wrapping paper enough to kill a small rainforest,
And who must sit there and do the wrapping of the presents,
Yes me, and I can tell you it isn’t very pleasant,
And who gets all the credit while living in the North Pole,
Some fat git dressed in a red suit sat there on his hole,
He even gets milk and stuff left out for him on the night,
But after six pints it’s me who has to drink the shite,
And stagger round the house putting things inside the socks,
While trying to get to bed and tripping over building blocks,
So to hell with Santa and his reindeer and his sleigh,
Say thank you dad cos I bought you all this crap you see today
And while you’re at it opening gifts with smiling faces looking,
The real Santa is in the kitchen tied to damn turkey and cooking.
There are times I’d like to nail that Santa to a wall,
But hey it’s Christmas so god bless you one and all.
09 Dec. 11
First insurance lesson,
I learned very early in life how to claim from insurance’s,
I didn’t know it then but it was to be one of life’s assurances,
Having come out from school at Hassett’s cross,
Each boy jostling for position trying to be the boss,
There had been a crash and a car had been turned on its roof,
There was guards standing watching it all aloof,
As we passed it on our way home from school it was smashed,
Left there on its roof all mangled and crashed,
Passengers all taken to hospital sirens all blazing,
And us young boys stood there gawping it was amazing,
There weren’t many cars about back in that time,
Posh people owned them we had horses it suited us fine,
A few men had gathered and were discussing the event,
The talk was of insurance and the driver’s intent,
And how the car could be fixed and what it might cost,
Either way the driver in court would be lost,
He’d be better off one said if it was all burned to hell,
That way the insurance company could never blame or tell,
Who was to blame for this almighty disaster?
While the occupants were likely to end up in plaster,
In any case everyone felt sorry for this man,
And someone should do something to help if they can,
So late that evening as the guards went away,
With a box of matches to the car we did stray,
And lit the smashed car and blew it up in smoke,
We laughed as we ran to us it was no joke,
But scorched we got all in strange places,
A few of us had burn marks on our faces,
In the station we denied all thoughts of burning this car,
Saying there was a guard watching it sure he wasn’t too far,
It must have been waiting to spark and take light,
We got scorched and it gave us a huge fright,
It was lucky that guard was well out of its way,
Or we might all be going to his funeral this day,
And rather then charge 5 of us with burning this car,
They questioned the guard, who should have been near not far,
The owner came to knock on our door’s late one night,
His insurance paid out, I’m still not sure if we were wrong or right.
10 Dec. 11
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