Little donkey, little donkey on the dusty road,
Got to keep on plodding onwards, with your precious load.
- Stuff that can’t we get the bus?
Little donkey, little donkey on the dusty road,
Got to keep on plodding onwards, with your precious load.
- Stuff that can’t we get the bus?
I’m sitting here in dread
Memories of
you filling my head
Sitting
here so totally alone
Afraid of
Christmas on my own
It was
always you and me
Doing
Christmas so merrily
Then you
had to go and die
Leaving me
with no goodbye
Losing you
was such a blow
I know you
didn’t choose to go
But I’m the
one that’s left
I’m the one
lonely and bereft
And for
that simple reason
I close the
curtains on the season
I will make
my Christmas solitary
And not
have to try to be merry
And I will
avoid the usual jollity
All our
friends and their frivolity
I look from my window
Upon a
street of cheer
And as I
look upon the scene
As
Christmas day draws near
I pray that
this good will
Could last
throughout the year
She likes surprises
And at
Christmas even more
So, I do
what I can
To give her
surprises galore
Each year
it gets harder
But I do
what I can
This year I
will tell her
I haven’t
always been a man
Is Christmas day on Friday this year?
I think
that it is, that’s what I hear
I’m one of those
superstitious men
So, let's
hope it's not the 13th then
Since the snow began to fall
My wife has
done nothing at all
But stare
blankly through the window
As the snow
lays snow on snow
If it
continues in this way
We shall
have a white Christmas day
But my wife
stares through the glass
As the snow
falls thick and fast
Sadly, if
it gets any worse outside
I'll have
to let her come inside
Well, it’s that time of year again
The time when
we feign gladness
When we all
get caught up
In the
annual collective madness
The time of
year when we pretend
The world
is not full of badness