The twelve days after Christmas

|The first day after ChristmasMy true love and I had a fightAnd so I chopped the pear tree downAnd burnt it, just for spite Then with a single cartridgeI shot that blasted partridge My true love, my true love, my true love gave to me. The second day after ChristmasI pulled on the old rubber glovesAnd very gently wrung the necksOf both the turtle doves My true love, my true love, my true love gave to me. On the third day after ChristmasMy mother caught the croupI had to use the three French hensTo make some chicken soup The four calling birds were a big mistake For their language was obsceneThe five golden rings were completely fake and turned my fingers green. The sixth day after ChristmasThe six laying geese wouldn’t laySo I sent the whole darn gaggle to theA.S.P.C.A. My true love, my true love, my true love gave to me. On the seventh day, what a mess I found The seven swans-a-swimming all had drowned.The eighth day after ChristmasBefore they could suspectI bundled up theEight maids-a-milkingNine ladies dancingTen lords-a-leapingEleven pipers pipingTwelve drummers drummingAnd sent them back collectI wrote my true love“We are through, love!“And I said in so many words“Furthermore your Christmas gifts were for the Birds!“ Four calling birds,Three French hens,Two turtle dovesAnd a partridge in a pear tree!“