My old Granpa recited this every Xmas. He‘d be unco fu, be bouncing one of the multitude of wains on his knee, every now and then removing his black NHS-framed glasses to wipe the sweat from his brow – for the room would be heaving and every pot in the small house would be bubbling…
I warn you – it is long. It is political. He also did a funny version – but my Mum and I cannot remember how it went…(apologies)…
It might help you to know that he was a founder member of the Wishaw Young Communists….
http://www.christmas-time.com/cp-work.html
And despite the contribution…. HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO YOU!
Impaled on the thistle 