This is the story of Jennifer Titmuss,
A girl who wanted it to always be Christmas,
She hung mistletoe in February and put holly up in June,
And Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen was her all-time favourite tune.
Her husband was frustrated, though he didn’t let it show,
But he only ever got some, when under mistletoe,
He said to her, Jenny, why do you love the Yule?
She answered him, Cedric, it’s the season that is cool.
I love hot mince pies in August and crackers in March,
And gaudy Christmas packages that crackle like starch,
Why plod through dull January and wan sunny May,
When we can have chestnuts, every Christmas day.
But surely there’s merit in the joys of the Spring?
I’m sure it is possible to burry this thing,
But she shook her head slowly, said enough of this banter,
Our marriage is over, I’m going off with Santa.
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