Christmas here is somewhat queer
Down in the southern hemisphere
The days are long instead of short
And where a suntan can be caught
No cosy nights around the fire
No carol singing outdoor choir
No scarves and gloves and fleecy tops
Just skimpy shorts and flippy- flops
But don’t you think there’ll be no drink
‘Cause many a glass we shall sink
Of beer and wine and spirits too
As on the beach they barbeque
They’ll sing and dance in celebration
People of the rainbow nation
Santa hats and festive fun
Their smiling greeting second to none
I for one won’t miss the chill
But bask in sunshine just until
It’s time for me to homeward go
To my beloved boat – Hobo
But till I do there’ll be no moans
Of missing Slade’s non- dulcet tones
The thought alone fills me with dread
That I should hear them in my head**
My best to you and festive cheer
Here’s hoping for a great new year.
**Which of course I now do…
Bugger. Self-inflicted brain damage.
–
Boatbird