CHRISTMAS IN THE WERKHOUSE
(words by ????) ( no melody, , should be recited as a poem, with a London Accent)

It were Christmas in the work'ouse, the best time of the year
All them paupers, they was 'appy, they was full O' Christmas Cheer.
And the Master too was 'Appy as 'e strode down dismal 'alls
And he wished them, "Merry Christmas"
And all them paupers answered, "Balls"
This made the Master angry and he swore by all the Gods,
"You'll get no Christmas puddin'Y' lousy lot of Sods
Then up spoke a war scarred veteran, who'd stormed the Khyber pass,
You can take your Christmas Puddin' an' shove it up your ass.