I’m dreaming of a blank Christmas
With nothing but a few good sales
Neither black nor tera cot nor white,
And Islamic slay-bells in the snow
All other religions out of sight,
Because we’ve surrounded without fight.
May your dreams be scary ‘til February
And may all your Christmases be blank.
Not mine but Kim Peterson.
Later on we’ll perspire
as we wrestle by the fire
and face unafraid
the plans that we made.
walking round in women’s underware.
Walking
Round
in
Women’s
UNDERWAAAAARE.