The Pomme de tere

The 25th. is coming

my stomach's a'churning

my headache is spinning me all around

with presents to wrap and cards to buy

there’s a busy little bustle everywhere

I quickly need a stick of dynamite

to blow these elves and reindeer alike

Now I have a turkey to stuff

I’d like it to be the Pomme de Tere

a humble apple of the earth

bury this day and make it 364

For one day I’m ne’er so dismayed

another fifty-two weeks to endure

all for a child it makes me wild

I hope someone curses this mess

The anticipation is killing me

I’ll wear my secret Santa jumper

wich only has one thing to say

You all know I’d love to shout

just really belt it all out

"... I HATE CHRISTMAS … "

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