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SANTA, XMAS EVE.


I crept downstairs,
To have a peep,
And there was santa,
And what a cheek!

All the mince pies…
Where gone from the plate,
Oh glory be, was he in a state.

The sherry bottle was empty,
The trifle was…all gone!
But oh my goodness me.
Santa was having fun.

He tripped on the mat,
And hit his head,
Oh flippin' ‘eck!
Santa's nearly dead!

Up he staggers,
And picks up his sack,
But his trousers fell down…
They were much too slack.

I saw his undies,
Couldn't help but stare,
I'd seen them before?
But didn't know from where?

He pulled up his pants,
And dropped his sack,
Then fell down again,
Flat on his back!

‘oh santa!' I said,
‘behave yourself!
‘For you're on your own,
‘There's no little elf!'

Santa looked up,
And smiled at me,
Said; ‘Dear girl,
‘Isn't it bed you should be?'

‘Yes!' I replied,
‘But I'm a little worried,
‘That you'll get it all wrong…
‘If your head is all flurried!'

Then his eyes twinkled,
And he laughed really bad,
That's when I knew it…
This santa's ‘my' dad!

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!



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