‘Twas the night before Christmas and all was quiet about the town

But in our house the sherries and warm cider were going down;

As the evening wore on we witnessed Dad dance

The younger guests stole away for quiet romance;

The whiskies and brandies now available to pour

The children begging Dad to drink no more.

With Santa on his way the kiddies were now sleeping

Mam in the kitchen listening to carols and weeping;

Dad in the garden assembling the new swings

Getting nowhere fast, being one of those annual things;

Finding it difficult by torchlight and with foreign instructions

Well of course we all know there were bound to be ructions;

Frustrated by foreign language and diagrammatic art

The biggest problem of all was that he was very, very drunk;

Defeated and downhearted he clambered upstairs

Never again, he solemnly declares;

The moral of this story is obvious and true

Christmas in Llanelli might not be for you.