On the first day of Christmas my true love said to me:
I`ve bought a big, 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 done 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 warm inside – we had the turkey curried.
On the sixth day of Christmas, the Christmas spirit died
As the children fought and bickered – we had turkey rissoles fried.
On the seventh day of Christmas my true love he did wince
When he sat down at the table and was offered turkey mince.
On the eighth day of Christmas the dog had run for shelter
He`d seen our turkey pancakes and the glass of Alka Seltzer.
On the ninth day of Christmas by lunchtime Dad was blotto
He knew that bird was back again, this time as a risotto.
On the tenth day of Christmas we were drinking home-made brew
As if that wasn`t bad enough, we were eating turkey stew.
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 we had smiles upon our lips.
The guests had gone, the turkey too – we dined on fish chips.