It’s Beginning to Look a lot Like...

In came I from dark snowy field’s,

With blood stained hand’s and frozen cheeks,

The turkey that I’d grown to love,

Now dead in the oven on gas mark six.

She was quite big and very rotund,

A beast to catch oh I laugh but it’s true,

The slaughter was worse a bloody sight,

No word of a lie, took an hour or two.

Remembering fondly that turkey I loved,

Made me certain of how you would pay,

And for killing my buddy oh dearest ma-ma,

I took an axe to you on Christmas day.