Christmas songs
- Thread starter Strangelight
- Start date
Bambi
Villain of the piece
Bambi
Villain of the piece
Verse I
Christmas bells are ringin, reeds hangin on the door, the fairys on the tree, presents on the floor, Santa Clause is comin, all the childrens waitings done, but i wouldn't hold your breath kids cause Ailins got his gun.
T'was a quiet Christmas Eve, we were snuggled up in bed, we heard hooves upon the roof, thats when Ailin raised his head. He ran down through the front room brandishing his gun, aimed it up the chimney, shot the intruder up the bum.
Chorus
There's a dead man up the chimney we call him old st. Nick, we shot him up the arse and poked him with a stick, Oh' Christmas is cancelled old white beard is dead, we tried to pull him down we 'll have to burn him out instead.
There'll be no more singin, there'll be no more joy, with the reindeers put down and the elves are unemployed, don't bother with the tree, no more excitment going to bed, cause Ailin shot old Santy Clause and pumped him full of led.
Chorus
There's a dead man up the chimney we call him old st. Nick, we shot him up the arse and poked him with a stick, Oh' Christmas is cancelled old white beard is dead, we tried to pull him down we 'll have to burn him out instead.
Podge: "So did ya slay Santa Ailin? What. Did you shoot him in the sack? Ruldof has a red nose, with blood! C'mon kids!
"hey santa claus you bastard, wheres me fucking bike" is a close second i think
Christmas bells are ringin, reeds hangin on the door, the fairys on the tree, presents on the floor, Santa Clause is comin, all the childrens waitings done, but i wouldn't hold your breath kids cause Ailins got his gun.
T'was a quiet Christmas Eve, we were snuggled up in bed, we heard hooves upon the roof, thats when Ailin raised his head. He ran down through the front room brandishing his gun, aimed it up the chimney, shot the intruder up the bum.
Chorus
There's a dead man up the chimney we call him old st. Nick, we shot him up the arse and poked him with a stick, Oh' Christmas is cancelled old white beard is dead, we tried to pull him down we 'll have to burn him out instead.
There'll be no more singin, there'll be no more joy, with the reindeers put down and the elves are unemployed, don't bother with the tree, no more excitment going to bed, cause Ailin shot old Santy Clause and pumped him full of led.
Chorus
There's a dead man up the chimney we call him old st. Nick, we shot him up the arse and poked him with a stick, Oh' Christmas is cancelled old white beard is dead, we tried to pull him down we 'll have to burn him out instead.
Podge: "So did ya slay Santa Ailin? What. Did you shoot him in the sack? Ruldof has a red nose, with blood! C'mon kids!
"hey santa claus you bastard, wheres me fucking bike" is a close second i think
Susie
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my dying groom
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EdenKriss
The Beer Hunter
Abcidia
Finest taste
nomana-nuniyan
Heyoka watching Trona
Susie
Member
Maqus
pocket frictionary
My favourite is "On the first day of Christmas my true love sent to me yayaddayadda, something something something on the something treee", it was almost like that last year
pistol_pete
Member
how can it be your favourite if you dont know the words?Maqus said:My favourite is "On the first day of Christmas my true love sent to me yayaddayadda, something something something on the something treee", it was almost like that last year
Maqus
pocket frictionary
Strangelight said:
Cause I don't know the words for any of them, and I just like the tune, and I know the words are funny.
Bambi
Villain of the piece
Bambi
Villain of the piece
which reminds me ...
Dear Nuala,
Thank you very much for your lovely present of a partridge in a pear-tree. Were getting the hang of feeding the partridge now, although it was difficult at first to win its confidence. It bit the mother rather badly on the hand but theyre good friends now and were keeping the pear-tree indoors in a bucket. Thank you again.
Yours affectionately,
Gobnait OLúnasa
Day Two
Dear Nuala,
I cannot tell you how surprised we were to hear from you so soon again and to receive your lovely present of two turtle doves. You really are too kind. At first the partridge was very jealous and suspicious of the doves and they had a terrible row the night the doves arrived. We had to send for the vet but the birds are okay again and the stitches are due to come out in a week or two. The vets bill was £80 but the mother is over her annoyance now and the doves and the partridge are watching the telly from the pear-tree as I write.
Yours ever,
Gobnait
Day Three
Dear Nuala,
We must be foremost in your thoughts. I had only posted my letter when the three French hens arrived. There was another sort-out between the hens and the doves, who sided with the partridge, and the vet had to be sent for again. The mother was raging because the bill was £160 this time but she has almost cooled down. However, the fact that the birds droppings keep falling down on her hair whilen shes watching the telly, doesnt help matters. Thanking you for your kindness.
I remain,
Your Gobnait
Day Four
Dear Nuala,
You mustnt have received my last letter when you were sending us the four calling birds. There was pandemonium in the pear-tree again last night and the vets bill was £320. The mother is on sedation as I write. I know you meant no harm and remain your close friend.
Gobnauit
Day Five
Nuala,
Your generosity knows no bounds. Five gold rings ! When the parcel arrived I was scared stiff that it might be more birds, because the smell in the living-room is atrocious. However, I dont want to seem ungrateful for the beautiful rings.
Your affectionate friend,
Gobnait
Day Six
Nuala,
What are you trying to do to us ? It isnt that we dont appreciate your generosity but the six geese have not alone nearly murdered the calling birds but they laid their eggs on top of the vets head from the pear-tree and his bill was £680 in cash ! My mother is munching 60 grains of Valium a day and talking to herself in a most alarming way. You must keep your feelings for me in check.
Gobnait
Day Seven
Nuala,
W e are not amused by your little joke. Seven swans-a-swimming is a most romantic idea but not in the bath of a private house. We cannot use the bathroom now because theyve gone completely savage and rush the door every time we try to enter. If things go on this way, the mother and I will smell as bad as the living-room carpet. Please lay off. It is not fair.
Gobnait
Day Eight
Nuala,
Who the hell do you think gave you the right to send eight, hefty maids-a-milking here, to eat us out of house and home ? Their cattle are all over the front lawn and have trampled the hell out of the mothers rose-beds. The swans invaded the living-room in a sneak attack and the ensuing battle between them and the calling birds, turtle doves, French hens and partridge make the Battle of the Somme seem like Wanderly Wagon. The mother is on a bottle of whiskey a day, as well as the sixty grains of Valium. Im very annoyed with you.
Gobnait
Day Nine
Listen you louser !
Theres enough pandemonium in this place night and day without nine drummers drumming, while the eight flaming maids-a-milking are beating my poor, old alcoholic mother out of her own kitchen and gobbling everything in sight. Im warning you, youre making an enemy of me.
Gobnait
Day Ten
Listen manure-face,
I hope youll be haunted by the strains of ten pipers piping which you sent to torment us last night. They were aided in their evil work by those maniac drummers and it wasnt a pleasant sight to look out the window and see eight hefty maids-a-milking pogo-ing around with the ensuing punk-rock uproar. My mother has just finished her third bottle of whiskey, on top of a hundred and twenty four grains of Valium. Youll get yours !
Gobnait OLúnasa
Day Eleven
You have scandalised my mother, you dirty Jezebel,
It was bad enough to have eight maids-a-milking dancing to punk music on the front lawn but theyve now been joined by your friends ~ the eleven Lords-a-leaping and the antics of the whole lot of them would leave the most decadent days of the Roman Empire looking like Outlook. Ill get you yet, you ould bag !
Day Twelve
Listen slurry head,
You have ruined our lives. The twelve maidens dancing turned up last night and beat the living daylights out of the eight maids-a-milking, cos they found them carrying on with the eleven Lords-a-leaping. Meanwhile, the swans got out of the living-room, where theyd been hiding since the big battle, and savaged hell out of the Lords and all the Maids. There were eight ambulances here last night, and the local Civil Defence as well. The mother is in a home for the bewildered and Im sitting here, up to my neck in birds droppings, empty whiskey and Valium bottles, birds blood and feathers, while the flaming cows eat the leaves off the pear-tree. Im a broken man.
Gobnait OLúnasa
Dear Nuala,
Thank you very much for your lovely present of a partridge in a pear-tree. Were getting the hang of feeding the partridge now, although it was difficult at first to win its confidence. It bit the mother rather badly on the hand but theyre good friends now and were keeping the pear-tree indoors in a bucket. Thank you again.
Yours affectionately,
Gobnait OLúnasa
Dear Nuala,
I cannot tell you how surprised we were to hear from you so soon again and to receive your lovely present of two turtle doves. You really are too kind. At first the partridge was very jealous and suspicious of the doves and they had a terrible row the night the doves arrived. We had to send for the vet but the birds are okay again and the stitches are due to come out in a week or two. The vets bill was £80 but the mother is over her annoyance now and the doves and the partridge are watching the telly from the pear-tree as I write.
Yours ever,
Gobnait
Dear Nuala,
We must be foremost in your thoughts. I had only posted my letter when the three French hens arrived. There was another sort-out between the hens and the doves, who sided with the partridge, and the vet had to be sent for again. The mother was raging because the bill was £160 this time but she has almost cooled down. However, the fact that the birds droppings keep falling down on her hair whilen shes watching the telly, doesnt help matters. Thanking you for your kindness.
I remain,
Your Gobnait
Dear Nuala,
You mustnt have received my last letter when you were sending us the four calling birds. There was pandemonium in the pear-tree again last night and the vets bill was £320. The mother is on sedation as I write. I know you meant no harm and remain your close friend.
Gobnauit
Nuala,
Your generosity knows no bounds. Five gold rings ! When the parcel arrived I was scared stiff that it might be more birds, because the smell in the living-room is atrocious. However, I dont want to seem ungrateful for the beautiful rings.
Your affectionate friend,
Gobnait
Nuala,
What are you trying to do to us ? It isnt that we dont appreciate your generosity but the six geese have not alone nearly murdered the calling birds but they laid their eggs on top of the vets head from the pear-tree and his bill was £680 in cash ! My mother is munching 60 grains of Valium a day and talking to herself in a most alarming way. You must keep your feelings for me in check.
Gobnait
Nuala,
W e are not amused by your little joke. Seven swans-a-swimming is a most romantic idea but not in the bath of a private house. We cannot use the bathroom now because theyve gone completely savage and rush the door every time we try to enter. If things go on this way, the mother and I will smell as bad as the living-room carpet. Please lay off. It is not fair.
Gobnait
Nuala,
Who the hell do you think gave you the right to send eight, hefty maids-a-milking here, to eat us out of house and home ? Their cattle are all over the front lawn and have trampled the hell out of the mothers rose-beds. The swans invaded the living-room in a sneak attack and the ensuing battle between them and the calling birds, turtle doves, French hens and partridge make the Battle of the Somme seem like Wanderly Wagon. The mother is on a bottle of whiskey a day, as well as the sixty grains of Valium. Im very annoyed with you.
Gobnait
Listen you louser !
Theres enough pandemonium in this place night and day without nine drummers drumming, while the eight flaming maids-a-milking are beating my poor, old alcoholic mother out of her own kitchen and gobbling everything in sight. Im warning you, youre making an enemy of me.
Gobnait
Listen manure-face,
I hope youll be haunted by the strains of ten pipers piping which you sent to torment us last night. They were aided in their evil work by those maniac drummers and it wasnt a pleasant sight to look out the window and see eight hefty maids-a-milking pogo-ing around with the ensuing punk-rock uproar. My mother has just finished her third bottle of whiskey, on top of a hundred and twenty four grains of Valium. Youll get yours !
Gobnait OLúnasa
You have scandalised my mother, you dirty Jezebel,
It was bad enough to have eight maids-a-milking dancing to punk music on the front lawn but theyve now been joined by your friends ~ the eleven Lords-a-leaping and the antics of the whole lot of them would leave the most decadent days of the Roman Empire looking like Outlook. Ill get you yet, you ould bag !
Listen slurry head,
You have ruined our lives. The twelve maidens dancing turned up last night and beat the living daylights out of the eight maids-a-milking, cos they found them carrying on with the eleven Lords-a-leaping. Meanwhile, the swans got out of the living-room, where theyd been hiding since the big battle, and savaged hell out of the Lords and all the Maids. There were eight ambulances here last night, and the local Civil Defence as well. The mother is in a home for the bewildered and Im sitting here, up to my neck in birds droppings, empty whiskey and Valium bottles, birds blood and feathers, while the flaming cows eat the leaves off the pear-tree. Im a broken man.
Gobnait OLúnasa
zupi_clone
Member
Maqus
pocket frictionary
Maqus
pocket frictionary
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