Office Christmas Party
It’s that happy time of year again
Just a few more days to go and then
Someone organises the office Christmas party when
All your tedious colleagues have a yen
To rave it up, both the women and the men
Suddenly it’s reindeer antlers and paper hats
Santa outfits and snowy kitty-cats
Christmas jumpers sported by the twats
A chance to get as pissed as rats
How bad could it possibly be?
Inappropriate behaviour for all to see
Inhibitions loose and newly free
Debbie from HR’s showing a bit of knee
Gordon from Accounts always rushing off to pee
And Secret Santas beneath the Christmas tree
The secret for getting through these do’s
Is to create some gossip and some news
About who’s using the Stationery Cupboard as a ruse
Who’s crying their eyes out in the loos
And who’s the hottest person you would choose
Whilst knocking back the copious booze
There’s a cheesy disco, and dad-dancing under way
Enforced enjoyment is the order of the day
Definitely not the time to discuss your pay
The simmering resentment that makes you grey
Or the rumours that the Sales Director’s turning gay
According to the lads working in the Loading Bay
And as the sausage rolls & vol-au-vents begin to
shrink
And you imagine that someone’s giving you the wink
You’re ready to declare undying love - you think
All’s looking well and you’re in the pink
Before your spirits can have chance to sink
It’s time to have yet another drink
The soundtrack’s from Wizzard and from Slade
Company loyalty & commitment start to fade
It’s time the photocopies of genitals were made
Time repressed sexual desires were displayed
Flirting’s now of the highest grade
And is anyone here going to get laid?
But, alas, the flowing drink is free no more
A situation that is frankly just a bore
That stingy boss pretends he’s poor
Tomorrow lots of heads will be very sore
Meantime, to the crowd’s sarcastic roar
It’s time to slide disgracefully to the floor
The consequences won’t be hard to tell
Instagram will show the world how you fell
Not the best way to come out of your shell
Your professional reputation’s death-knell
A career-limiting night of drunken hell
Capped off by copious vomiting in the stair-well
And in the New Year what changes will await?
What will be your humiliation? Your fate?
You’ll get lumbered with a task you’ll hate –
To organise next year’s Christmas party date
You’ve been stitched up, and that’s not great
But, what did you expect from a work-mate?
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