For that is the time to eat, drink and be merry

‘Til the beer is all spilled and the whiskey is flowed

And the whole family tree you neglected to bury

Are feeding their faces until they explode

There’ll be laughter and tears over Tia Marias

Mixed up with that drink made from girders

And it’s all we’ve got left as you draw your last breath

And it’s nice for the kids as you’ve finally got rid of them

In the St Stephen’s Day Murders

Uncle is garglin’ a heart-breaking air

While the babe in his arms pulls out all that remains of his hair

And we’re not drunk enough yet to dare criticize

The great big kipper tie he’s about to baptize

His gin-flavoured whispers and kisses of sherry

His best crimble shirt flung out over the shop

While the lights from the Christmas tree blow up the telly

His face closes in like an old cold pork chop

And the carcass of the beast left over from the feast

May still be found haunting the kitchen

And there’s life in it yet we may live to regret

When the ones that we poisoned stop twitchin’