Twas the day after Christmas
And all through the house
We were looking like proof of
The theory chaos
Presents unwrapped
Their papers askew
Children not playing
With toys – they are through
Stockings once hung
By the chimney with care
Could not now be found
Anywhere
I with my hangover
And Ma sipping tea
Were starting to talk
‘Bout taking down the tree
Then what to my tired, bloodshot
Eyes should appear
But a ghost of the Christmas
Coming up this next year
“Oh no,” I exclaimed loudly
“I thought we were all done”
Said the Ghost of Christmas Future
“You’re not the only one”
“I try hard to lay low”
“But it gets worse each year”
“The season starts earlier and earlier, you know?”
“Hey – could you grab me a beer?”
I went to the fridge
And poured him a draught
He gulped it down quickly
And let out a laugh
“This gig is a joke”
“The pay, just a pittance”
“Happy New Year I say”
“To this season, good riddance”
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