Picture my family, out for a jaunt.
It’s Christmas, it’s snowing, what more could we want?
We’re belting out Jingle Bells; the van’s filled with cheer,
When what to my wondering eyes do appear?
A Christmas tree, curbside, dejected and wet.
It’s December 28th, you can’t throw it out yet!

My droll little mouth was drawn up in bow
As I started to shout “NO NO NO NO NO!
It’s the fourth day of Christmas, you dumb, stupid turds!
You should be awaiting your four calling birds!
Not taking down trees … not yet … it’s not right!
It should be kept up until the twelfth night!

But there it lays, broken. A sad, sorry lump.
Crumpled. Rumpled. Awaiting the dump.
And here lies the problem – now listen real close
It’s time for your little reality dose:
You were too damn impatient – don’t you remember?
You stuck your tree up on the first of November.

You’re sick of it now – it’s dusty, it’s old.
So you've chucked it out early, right into the cold.
Instead of savouring the whole of the season,
You’ve cut it off short and for no good reason.
So while you’ve ended Christmas, before it began
We’ll cling to it tightly as long as we can.