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'Twas the night before Christmas, I’d forgotten the sprouts
So I sent out a plea to the local boy scouts
I’d remembered the crackers, the turkey and ham
but my guests would expect sprouts, so I was in a jam

The scout leader admitted that I was in a pickle
and he said my family were all somewhat fickle
I said Uncle Bert just adored eating brussels
then he’d fart for days with his lax sphincter muscles 

The scout leader had a plan, it is so well thought out
He'd call each scout’s mother to donate just one sprout
Every scout hurries round with one sprout in their hands
soon I have plenty of veg to sate my guest’s demands

On Christmas Day the relations ring my door bell
Pat barges into my kitchen; she makes my life hell
At one time she cooked meals for guys in the Navy
So she has to check if there are lumps in MY gravy

On the stroke of one o’clock I dish up the food
Uncle Bert belches loudly, that man is so rude
They devour all the turkey and round stuffing balls
By the end of the main course I’m climbing the walls!

They don’t offer to help, so I fetch the dessert
Uncle Bert drips brandy butter all over his shirt
Then they guzzle the cheese and finish the wine
Bert then farts profusely, he’s a disgusting swine

Then we sit round the TV to listen to the Queen
Bert’s eaten too much, his face has turned green 
Pat gives me a present, of a hand knitted jumper
It’s three sizes too big, I just want to thump her

They’ve descended on me these last fifteen years
I ask if they’ll reciprocate, my words fall on deaf ears
They never say thank you, they drink all my booze
Next year they can whistle, I’m booking a cruise!

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