So Tearfully Round

So Tearfully Round

January starts the year, everything gets worse from there;

"Happy New Year" we all sing, knowing it will be no such thing.

February gets no better, just more dull and slightly wetter,

A Valentine may come to hand, from somebody you can't stand.

March comes in just like a lion, kills the stock that we rely on;

So instead of finest breeds, we must all eat rotting swedes.

April fools go to the fold, all night lambing in the cold,

As more showers come our way, to bring the mud we tread in May.

May brings Blossom, Clover too - see their rear ends as we hoe;

While we toil around us prance a load of blooming morris dancers.

June, all over's, bursting out; comfort we must do without,

As we get the longer days, while the sun shines we haul hay.

July we must work still harder, all to fill the farmer's larder;

So we labour without cease, shearing sheep while we get fleeced.

August we slave to the bone, for to bring the harvest home;

All that work, alas, alack, just means more to thresh and stack.

September we run out of luck, ploughing mud and spreading muck;

While the Farmer goes to shoot, we must go back to his roots.

October we're soaked to the skin, working late as nights draw in;

As our fate we feebly curse, the clocks go back to make it worse.

November brings us bonfire night, symbol of a future bright;

While the fire burns so bold, we've no fuel to keep from cold.

December sees the shortest day, we get laid off without pay;

Eating mistletoe and holly; 'tis the season to be jolly.

Christmas comes, Christmas goes, debt the only thing that grows;

Boxing Day just brings more pain - the morris dancers prance again.

So the seasons turn and grind, till it's January time;

January starts the year, everything gets worse from there.

So tearfully the year goes round - it goes pear-shaped, we have found.