As sages say life is a riddle
No one knows until they got stuck in the middle
No matter how hard it is
One day you will get the answers
Think million times sometimes you get the answer from your past
From birth to death they’re riddles
This will be like passing every huddles
Life never stops giving riddles
It will give you a liddle
‘Twas the night before Christmas in the little town of Oberflugelschweinsaxenmitcracklingewurst.
(There are some that are much longer; it isn’t the worst)
Now hier ist ze haus of ze happy family SCHMIDT
Und Herr Schmidt mit rosenconk giving ze gluwein a hit
Ze Schmidt kinder all excited - Santa Claus kommin to town
Und everyone so merry, mit big smiles, und never a frown
Und zere in ze garten ze liddle haus you know what for
Zose are ze shoes of Frau Schmidt sticken aus unter ze door
Und now here ist gekommin Santa Claus on der grosse toboggan
He is singin Oh! so merry cos he also had a noggin
See ze reindeer geklompin uberhead, leaving Lufthasa standingk
Zen down zey are kommin - all ready fur ze Landingk
Ach! Meine Gott! Zey are heading for ze liddle haus in ze garten!
Kablunden! Blitzen ! Alles Kaput! Ze liddle haus Ist geflattened
Und Frau Schmidt ist runningk aus mit ze knickers round ze ankles!
Zat’s enough to spoil your Christmas; in ze snow it really rankles
Fater Christmas zen ist sayingk: "Shtupid dumkopf reindeer - Heraus!
I gave you clear instruction to be landing on ze SCHMIDT Haus !!!!!"
This morning I wanted to write a poem
But the words just wouldn't rhyme
So, I'll just put it away
And try another time
Well, here I am in the afternoon
Armed with paper and pen
The words will surely come to me soon
So, I'll just wait til then
I had a very nice dinner
And an extra glass of wine
Poem writing shouldn't be so hard
And I'm sure I can do it this time
First I'll have another glass of wine
Just to settle me down
I'm beginning to get the feeling
I may need to lie down
So many words come tumbling out
I can't get them in a line
My fingers are shaking so
Think I need another glass of wine
Oh, looky, looky, looky, at all dem purdy werds
Amazing how a liddle wine can open up yer head
I wish I could get dem on my paper
Before my fingers turn to lead
I 'd really love to write a poem
But I don't know what to do
So, I'll have another glass of wine
And leave the poem writing to you.
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