It's facile and I don't care
‘Twas the day after Christmas, and all through the flat
Not a creature was stirring, not even Joel’s bat
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
Full of dead lettuce and animal hair
The fellows were all groaning asleep on the floor,
While somebody was having a shower next door
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
They crawled off the floor to see what was the matter.
Away to the window they staggered and stumbled,
They opened the blinds and blearily mumbled
The sun in the heat of post-Christmas cheer
Made them pray for a climate supporting reindeer
When, what to their sleep crusted eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
‘What the fuck? said Dave. Is this some kinda trick?’
But they all knew at once that it was St. Nick.
More randy than terriers his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
Hurry up you slow bastards, I’ve a need to be pissing!
Land down right here, yeah over that wall
Then fuck off! Fuck off! Fuck off you all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
Did Santa up on that roof open his fly
So away from the house-top the coursers they flew,
With a beaten up sleigh full of crackers and booze
And then, with a twinkling, they heard on the roof
Santa unload with an ‘Ah, yeah, that’s good’
As they drew closed the blinds, and were turning around,
From the chimney was heard that sweet ‘twinkling’ sound
And soon at the bottom of their chimney there pooled
A soot covered river, consistent as gruel
And Santa above showed no signs of abating
But kept on his streaming, all the while stating:
’I’m never again drinking Fosters then flying
It fills up my bladder as though it were trying
To burst a big bloody hole in my gut
Thank Christ that’s over, Oh Dancer, Shut up.’
Then he spoke not a word, but went back to work,
And emptied his bladder with a twist and a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
Let the last of his urine down that chimney go;
Then he sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But they heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Well that’s what happens when you're up drinking all night!’
Not a creature was stirring, not even Joel’s bat
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
Full of dead lettuce and animal hair
The fellows were all groaning asleep on the floor,
While somebody was having a shower next door
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
They crawled off the floor to see what was the matter.
Away to the window they staggered and stumbled,
They opened the blinds and blearily mumbled
The sun in the heat of post-Christmas cheer
Made them pray for a climate supporting reindeer
When, what to their sleep crusted eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
‘What the fuck? said Dave. Is this some kinda trick?’
But they all knew at once that it was St. Nick.
More randy than terriers his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
Hurry up you slow bastards, I’ve a need to be pissing!
Land down right here, yeah over that wall
Then fuck off! Fuck off! Fuck off you all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
Did Santa up on that roof open his fly
So away from the house-top the coursers they flew,
With a beaten up sleigh full of crackers and booze
And then, with a twinkling, they heard on the roof
Santa unload with an ‘Ah, yeah, that’s good’
As they drew closed the blinds, and were turning around,
From the chimney was heard that sweet ‘twinkling’ sound
And soon at the bottom of their chimney there pooled
A soot covered river, consistent as gruel
And Santa above showed no signs of abating
But kept on his streaming, all the while stating:
’I’m never again drinking Fosters then flying
It fills up my bladder as though it were trying
To burst a big bloody hole in my gut
Thank Christ that’s over, Oh Dancer, Shut up.’
Then he spoke not a word, but went back to work,
And emptied his bladder with a twist and a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
Let the last of his urine down that chimney go;
Then he sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But they heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Well that’s what happens when you're up drinking all night!’