Don't get me no more Santa socks. Get me things I want!
Every thing you buy just sucks. You haven't got a clue.
You'd talk the hind legs off a donkey. Fifty miles away.
Every thing you get is wonkey. So stick your gift this year.

No I don't like soap on ropes, or chocolate covered mints.
Don't buy me scented envelopes, or the bloomin' stamps.
If I want to write to you, I can get the things myself.
But don't expect I'm gonna do, why can't you take the hints?

Give me lots of chips and beer, not pheasant pie and tea.
It's bloomin' dull just being here, smiling hurts my face.
Don't give a stuff 'bout your china frog, or your dancin' class.
Go take your crochet bottle dog, and stick it in your glass.

It's not the festive spirit, but the lager that I want.
Why talk about my jacket, it's just a load of wool.
I've had enough of Christmas time, of family and food.
Hurry with that mulling wine, and get me out of here.