Feigning joy and surprise at the ducks we despise at the (Staines) south basin with you
On the 25th day of the 12th month
The slay bells are in time ringing true
How we cling each day long to our shotguns and hope in hell
that it won't end

Don't let the cull end
Christmas time, just let them cull in peace.

Well the weather is cruel,
and the season of cull warms the heart, but it still hurts.
You've got your natural range, spent the best part of last year over here and it still hurts
So that's why I pray each and every Christmas day that it won't end

Don't let the cull end
Christmas time, just let them cull in peace.

Christmas time, don't let the cull end
Christmas time, don't let the cull end

Ghosts underneath the willow tree leaves when you're not here,
You got slayed upon boxing day,
Now what the hell am I gonna shoot in the New Year.

Christmas time, don't let the cull end
Christmas time, don't let the cull end

Christmas time, don't let the cull end
Christmas time, just let them cull in peace.

Christmas time, don't let the cull end
Christmas time, don't let the cull end

Four months of sheer hell (RDM)

punkbirder@hotmail.co.uk