Season to be Jolly.

 Christmas time, Christmas time,
 All that whiskey and lots of wine,
 Turkeys with Giblets and bits,
 Saucy Santa's with big tits.
 Alcoholics in the Street,
 Beating up people that they meet.

 Wrapped up presents under the tree,
 They're not for you, just for me.
 Shredded wrappers on the floor,
 This present's shit, gimme more, more, more.
 Sitting there distraught, alone,
 Relatives wanting to go home.
 
 Tension rising between the men,
 Who'll throw the first punch, Robbie or Glen?
 While sitting there silently on the seat,
 The prize being fresh female meat.

 Wifey comes in to declare dinner time,
 Everyone slowly stands, in a simultaneous line,
 Laid upon the table, a burnt Christmas dinner,
 Glen yells "Oi wench YOU come hither!
 What the bloody hell do you call this?"
 He said sneering whilst walking off to take a piss.

 Sobbing her heart out, off to the pub, wifey goes,
 Walking through the street as it snows.
 Lots of childish little brats,
 Throwing snowballs and hitting old people with wooden bats.
 Is this what Xmas is going to be like?
 Always wanting to have a fight?
 Merry Christmas, Ho, Ho, Hoo.
 The season to be jolly, No I don't think so.