Pretty soon word was out that the good Lord had come,
And some shepherds got wind while pissed up on cheap rum,
In a pub up the road while their sheep wandered wild,
"Fucking Hell like," said one, "Let's go visit this child!"
They staggered on in to the stable, quite pissed,
And one of them wee'd in the corner but missed,
And ended up stood by the manger instead,
And caught poor sweet Jesus's poor little head.
"We've brought him sum pressents," The first shepherd slurred,
"It isn't that much, but we've only just heard,
We've got him sum piss and a sheep and some beer,
He's had his piss already. The rest's here."
He pulled out some Red Stripe and called in a sheep,
"That's fer baby, to help it to sleep,"
And then they all left amidst piss, poo and grime,
In the distance a bell rang, signalling pub closing time.
Just then in a village not too far away,
Three kings were involved in strange acts that were gay,
The first one bent over, the second - too crude!
I won t tell you this, you might find it too rude.
They all got the news and got dressed right away,
"How lovely!" They cried, "Oh WHAT a gay day!"
And off they all minced in the search for their King,
"Oh WHAT shall I wear? I just don t have a THING!"
They brought lots of presents - a vase and some quiche,
A cute little poodle, a nice rounded peach,
A seven-foot dildo that brought tears to eyes,
And played It's Raining Men as an added surprise.
"Oh look at this place!" cried the Kings in disgust,
"Some carpets and rugs and some lampshades - you must!
You can t have the child here, asleep or awake
That manger isn't even designer, for heaven's sake!"
The kings then got busy and were soon on the phone,
To an interior designer, and how they did moan!
"Dear Laurence! You really must come right away!
Their sofa's from Ikea! It just cannot stay!"
Laurence L-Bowen arrived in a jiffy,
And removed all the stuff that he deemed just too iffy,
And then called Carol Smilie and the rest of the crew,
To lay decking and things, 'til the place looked brand new.
Mary and Joseph at last got some kip,
Stretched out on their shag pile, asleep they did slip,
And Jesus did gurgle, contented and happy,
And puked up his milk and did shits in his nappy.
The stars in the heavens did sparkle above,
Was it God smiling down, sending Jesus his love?
Was He really the father of this child so sweet?
Or was that the butcher from down Jerusalem Street?
The Gospel According To Kate
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