think salvation army
is running pretty late
running down street so barmy
on floor tuba does grate
never heard, Come All Ye Faithful
played at a rapid pace
it really was distasteful
thought they're in a race
even the collection box
was running in a sprint
as knock on letterbox
raiding money box, I'm skint
Silent night, Holly and Ivy
all sounded in a pickle
although sounded lively
was still counting me nickle
So hopefully next year
await at the door with glee
I'll have a word in there ear
so they can play more in harmony
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem