'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house,
not a creacher was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
in hopes that Saint Nicholas soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of sugar plums danced in their heads...
(...Except we were really up past our bedtimes having a few quiet drinks down in Marbella)
the women joined in with pictures of them.
we need to go home, I think now, my dear.
At quarter to four we walked through the door,
whilst dropping sweet Callum off on his front porch.
The cousin and I we had a sleepover
not before checking that Santa'd been over.
A tree full of presents that's what we saw,
good old St. Nick! We were in awe!