I’ll tell you a story
One I’m sure you’ve been told
About a boy who hated Christmas
And was 16 years old
He lived in a town
On a cold mounted top
A town like no other
It was called plip plop
Oh the people you meet
In that small hill town
Are pleasant and friendly
And never feel down
But the boy however
Who lived in that place
Did not like the season
And frowned with his face
You see, people in plip plop
Liked Christmas a lot
They rejoiced in the days
It made hearts trot
They hung pooks from the ceiling
And zooks on the door
And out in the streets
They hung so much more
For In the main square
There was a sight to be saw
There were lights all around
Not one did withdraw
But back to our boy
Our story’s about
The boy who hates Christmas
And always would pout
The boy had no features
And didn’t say much
But would grumble and moan
And walk about on a crutch
As he walked through that town
Way way up high
He grumbled to him self
And let out a sigh
And the thing he would grumble
As he walked along
Would offend a lot of people
They think he is wrong
But the people of plip plop
Just didn’t care
About the boy in the crutch
Oh the things you can say
When you’re not herd
You can be just so sill
You can be so absurd
You can talk about politics
You can have a real fit
You can talk about rubbish
You can say the word shit
But on this day
As he called Christmas a turd
A most dreadful thing happened
Someone over herd
“Christmas a trud
No don’t be absurd
How can you use
Such a terrible word
We won’t stand for this
In this hill top town
We’ll take him to the elders
That boy with the frown”
So they took the boy
Who walked with a crutch
To the top of the hill
And called for elder Pluch
With a creak and a crack
The door it did open
The boy was summoned in
In front of elder PoePeePenn
The court had assemble
They had come straight away
To judge that boy
Who hated Christmas day
The oldest elder
Leaned over the table
“Now tell us why
Speak if you’re able”
Now the boy in the crutch
With a cough and a splutter
Looked at the elder
And this he did mutter
“I really hate Christmas
I hate it a lot
The whole fucking season
In this town of plip plop
I’m grumpy and miserable
In fact I’m a git
But you have to accept
That Christmas is shit
For first there are the cards
Packed up all tight
And I’m supposed to send one back
That’ll be bloody right
Then there’s the shopping
The terror the pain
And the twats with no manners
I think it’s a shame
Another’s the lights
In the streets and the cities
I quite hate them all
There really quite shifty
But the thing I hate most
Is that people do think
Is that they need to tell me
That not celebrating dose stinks
If I don’t want to celebrate
That my own bloody decision
And I hate all these people
In this plip plop prison
And the fact that I’m stuck here
Is simply pure luck
But the fact that you hate me
I don’t give a fuck
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