Peeling Potatoes

I’ve opened a present, a bottle of Schnapps

My favourite, Archers, peach flavour

I’m peeling potatoes and just dare not lapse

Cause my roasties are something to savour.

I’ve eaten four mince pies laced liberally with rum.

I’m still peeling but feel rather weepy.

So I've gulped down some whisky. It's warming my tum,

But potatoes are making me sleepy.

They’re inside watching telly. That’s fine. It’s ok.

Come the adverts, they all want a cuppa.

It’s a Peach Schnapps for me. I feel better that way

When I’m peeling potatoes for supper.

I’ve made them all tea and they’re watching a play

So I’m peeling potatoes like crazy

But the kitchen is starting to gently sway

And I’m feeling incredibly lazy.

I’ll just rest for a while. I’ll slide onto the floor

I know one thing without any doubt,

I’m sorry. I can’t peel potatoes no more

Cause I fear I’m about to pass…