Don't Let Me Die This Christmas

I'm sure that all this Christmas stuff is fucking up my head,
But when the wonder day comes up, I hope I won't be dead,
I don't care about a Christmas tree or Christmas party jive,
All I ask of the twenty-fifth is that I'm still alive.

I want to survive the Christmas shops and the blaring Christmas music,
I wan tot survive the chocolate, and the foods that make me sick,
I don't want a hundred Christmas cards, I don't want a jumper or socks,
I just want to stand up tall, upright, and not be in my box.

So keep your brandy butter and your deep-filled mincemeat tart,
Keep your Mr Kipling cakes and the ginger bread shaped like a heart,
Keep the prawn ring from Iceland and your Asda cranberry pie,
Just let me see two-thousand-and-fourteen, let me live, Lord, don't let me die.

Copyright © Max Scratchmann. All Rights Reserved