I’m dreaming of a tight Christmas,
Just like the one in ’84.
When the minister’s gone fishin’
and people start wishin’
To the sound of an economy gone below.

I’m dreaming of a tight Christmas,
With every pathetic government slight.
You may take a ferry, or flight,
And leave Ireland long out of sight.

I’m dreaming of a tight Christmas,
A Christmas when the future’s shyte.
They get a raise and you get plight,
And may all your votes next year be spite.

Merry Recession everybody!