Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the nation,
There was misery, poverty and great deprivation
Some stockings were empty, some fridges were bare,
The heating turned off, little money to spare.
Cognac and Port so he’s feeling no pain,
Stuffing his chops on goose flesh and gammon,
Caviar, Stilton and the finest smoked salmon.
Ex-Servicemen, youngsters, both Leave and Remainers
The nurses and doctors all still searching for beds
With a shortage of staff, of money and meds.
Hedge funders, financiers and various w*nkers
Admiring his baubles and pulling his crackers,
Rejoicing that he's got us all by the knackers.
While the Chancellor’s counting the last of his lolly
And Grandad’s in pieces, stemming his tears
Though they’ve paid their dues these past sixty years.
While his missus is battered and doing the splits
And Drunken Smith is a singing along with the Pogues
With the rest of the mob and a few Russian rogues.
Won’t get them- their benefits were stopped without warning
While those who dosh is in off-shore accounts
Will be rubbing their hands as the total mounts.
Has long given up on Dancer and Blitzen
She was robbed of her pension, they don’t give a shite
That she’s freezing and hungry on Christmas Eve night.