Tuesday, 18 November 2014

Merry elfing Christmas...

Click on the link at the end of this entry to hear 

the author (that's me, that is) read it to you 

in his, I mean my, soothing, Salfordian tone.

This year, as last, and the one before 
The big, fat man paused at the door
To kiss his wife a fond farewell
And leave for work as he rang his bell
Mrs Claus' smile faltered as she saw his rear
"Those pants don't fit him like they did last year"
"Never mind", she thought, "I've a needle and thread
"I can take them in when he goes to bed."
He climbed aboard his magical sleigh
And urged his reindeer on their way
With a jingle of bells and a "Ho-ho-ho"
They sped aloft through the driving snow
To spread joy and love and treats and gifts
To all the kids on the nice-kid list
And just because he loved them, too
A gift or two for those naughty, like you

All children asleep, for it was by now late
He touched down gently upon the slates
Of the roof of a family on the Isle of Wight
And so began his arduous night
The one night of the year that he had to work
The one night of the year that he couldn't shirk
The night that he loved, his reason to live
To receive no thanks, just to give, give and give
No longer so young, the ache in his back
Brought forth a wince as he picked up the sack
Then he climbed down the chimney, all covered in soot
And crept to the tree where he silently put
The toys and the games for the child of the house
Then crept back out slowly, as quiet as a mouse
He returned to his sleigh, climbed aboard and took off
That's when Donder and Blixem noticed the cough 

He tired far too quickly to finish his tasks
His once happy face was the colour of ash
Before he had gotten even half way around
His body went limp and he fell to the ground
From the magical sleigh that swept through the sky
He plummeted Earthward, no glint in his eye
He lay in an alley, all twisted and bloody
The snow settling gently and covering his body
He lay there all night 'til the wintry sun rose
No part of him visible except for his nose
The snow slowly thawed, his body did not
Icicles formed in his eyes and his snot
Until a man, down on his luck
Spotted him there and whispered "Oh fuck"
He looked left and right, he was all alone
Save for the dead man lying there prone

He'd only been looking for somewhere he could
Stick a needle in his arm and poison his blood
With his own special brand of Christmas cheer
The poison to cure his pain and his fear
He took the coat and boots and hat
From the broken body he'd found and that
He left in the slush for the rats to eat
And eat they did, at least his feet
Before being disturbed and running away
At the sound of the footsteps on that last Christmas day
That came from the man with the bags in his hands
Filled with paper and cardboard and empty beer cans
That he brought to place in the big, green skip
That served the flats in which he lived
The flats with no chimneys, where no children dwelt
And the lack of a gift wasn't noticed or felt

So forget about nice, there's no need to behave
Old Father Christmas now lies in a grave
Unmarked by a cross or a stone or some flowers
No lists does he write as he whiles away hours
Just killing the time until that special night
When he embarks once again on his magical flight
And he bends space and time in his mission to share
Joy with all, young and old, every year, everywhere
It comes to us all, just as night follows day
Enjoy what you've got 'fore it's taken away
'Twas the soot in your chimneys that killed him you know?
Think about that while you're watching the snow
Outside your window on your next Christmas morning
How he lies in a hole, no mourners there mourning
He's gone now, hard luck, he wont be bringing that
Toy that you asked for, you ungrateful twat.

Merry Fucking Christmas.


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