Текст песни Boxing Day Blues - Studio G

Christmas cheers and all that jazz
Church bells ringing and all that has a festive air
Will lead nowhere but trouble
Throughout the year we go with care
And ration out our sherbets
Yuletide carols in the air make us Ray Herberts
You can sentimentalise
More than you realise
And man, I ain't bluffing
The turkey ain't the only thing with too much stuffing

Popping corks of plonk that ought never to be taken
Lolling louts, chain-smoking snouts with bellies full of chicken
Pass the ice bag, pass my pills and let me make my will
Boxing Day, please go away
Christmas, I feel ill

There are some that say that
Boxing Day has something all its own
But the little man inside my head is drilling to the bone
Sugar and spice and all that's nice
That's how it used to begin
But stones and snails clog my entrails
And little girls are made of gin
So pass the ice bag, pass my pills, let me make my will
Boxing Day, please go away
Christmas, I feel ill