Every Christmas tree sparkly, every fairy-light on.
The pubs were filled up with people galore,
Hipsters, and bankers and ravers and more.
Oxford Street buzzing with last minute shoppers,
And foodies in Firth Street eating dosas at Hoppers.
Everyone gets an Uber to make sure they’re not late,
Making uncomfortable small talk with ‘been busy tonight, mate?’
London’s good tempers can be felt all around,
With no exclamations of ‘this pint cost five pounds?!’
Londoners look for a warm pub to go,
But of course there’s no luck for seat in Soho-ho-ho.
Time passes by in full party mode,
But no one wants to start Christmas on Tottenham Court Road!
So Londoners rush home to their ladies or fellas,
Getting back before midnight like drunk Cinderellas.
Londoners crawl into bed, ignoring the room spin,
To wake with no hangover would be an absolute win!
They start dreaming of turkey and roast potatoes,
Battered brussels sprouts? They’ll take one of those!
The last drinks bell rings and the night disappears,
Drunks roll to the street with laughter and cheers.
But lucky for you the tube is in sight,
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!