I’m Going Postal For Christmas
I’ve been cooking food for days now
Turkey’s on the tray
It’s way past autumn baby, no time for making hay
But my lover isn’t home yet
He really should be hear
And my gravy’s getting weaker as I add my salty tears
And she says “oh no”
And she says “oh no”
My lover ain’t home
And my turkey’s gone cold
He said she was a trifle
It did not mean a thing
Romance should not be stifled
At an office party fling
But boy when I first saw her
It made alarm bells ring
They’re drowning out the church bells going ding-a-ling-aling
I’m basting with a vengence
Cooking up a stew
And in my sprouts I’m carving
Some cross-hairs just for you
And if Santa Claus comes sliding down that sooty Christmas flue
He’s going to get what’s coming
Cos these sprouts ain’t just for you