Anna Tabbush
Darkness rules, the days are getting shorter
Radioman is moaning again
We all hate commercialisation
When the sleigh bells ring it’s September again
You may cry that it all starts too early
You may complain about over-crowded streets
You may wish that you could hibernate ‘til springtime
The twelve days of Christmas last at least twelve weeks
But think about the parsnips, honey roasted parsnips
With a little splash of gravy and ‘taters on the side
Think about the parsnips, honey roasted parsnips
There’s winter’s promise of parsnips on my mind
(Peel them, chop them, roast them for an hour,
Just before their done, drizzle honey o’er your parsnips)
Christmastime, winter is promising
The sound of choirboys singing through the night
Warm log fires, cold and snowy eveings
This old town filled with tinsel and light
You may cry that it all starts too early
You may complain about over-crowded streets
You may wish that you could hibernate ‘til Springtime
The twelve days of Christmas last at least twelve weeks
But think about the parsnips, honey roasted parsnips
With a little splash of gravy and ‘taters on the side
Think about the parsnips, honey roasted parsnips
There’s winter’s promise of parsnips on my mind
(Peel them, chop them, roast them for an hour,
Just before their done, drizzle honey o’er your ‘snips,
Serve with taters, gravy, sprouts and broccoli
Those lovely honey roasted parsnips on my mind)