Sunday 28 December 2014

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…