Phantasmagoria

On this frosty night of Christmas I went to buy a sweater,
A woolly hat, a pair of gloves, I wish that I'd known better,
The jumper had a Yuletide weave, the gloves were red and green,
And the hat was of a Santa cut, 'twas really quite obscene.

And I groaned aloud, it is that time, that time of seasonal cheer,
When folks drink eggnog by the fire instead of wine or beer,
And I saw a tired woman with a pile of cracker hats,
And paper chains that bound her, to novelty Christmas mats.

And I called out, lovely lady, what is it that you do?
She said I'm doing Christmas stuff, it's Christian, so fuck you!
And advent calendars open up their doors like mausoleums,
And Christmas ghosts do roam about the sparkling Xmas se-ams,
And here I sit in corner dark and eat my sweet mince pie,
And old men ask for Christmas cheer, but I answer, no, not I.

Copyright © Max Scratchmann. All Rights Reserved