12 Minutes to Christmas
Slow, folk-rock style song about children are being made to count down last 12 minutes before they can open their presents. (Inspired by Twelve Days of Christmas, but with completely different mood and music, as we learn that the father has just lost his job and the family is poor).
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PLEASE WAIT - LOADING
Lyrics
12 MINUTES TO CHRISTMAS
Michael Dyer
© 2009
Hey! Don't open your presents now. Twelve minutes still to go.
Dad hasn't gotten up. He's had a hard night. Movin' kind of slow.
Don't poke that box, near the chimney socks. Eleven minutes left.
And don't look so sad, so sad and bereft, just eleven minutes left.
Don't rip that tissue or act like you wish you could. Ten minutes still remain.
And don't touch that track or that little train. Ten minutes still remain.
And don't you dare peek, inside of that bag.
That's not your name, that's on the tag.
Nine minutes left, on my watch. No jumping or indoor hopscotch.
Eight minutes now, soon they will pass, and we'll have a Christmas blast.
Not much stuff beneath the tree, but still one lucky fam'ly.
And stop your fiddlin', with that ribbon.
Pullin' on it won't show what's hidden.
Seven minutes, still on the clock. Let's all sit quiet and talk.
Your Dad lost his work, as a bank clerk,
And with granny's fall, bills worry us all.
But six minutes still, must pass, before you can dive in at last.
Keep an eye on big brother, little sister dear.
With five minutes left, I now really fear,
To open, he's itchin', when I go in the kitchen.
Tell me. Ya won't be snitchin'.
Four minutes left, on the stove rack and right away I'm back.
But where's that doll? What looks out of wack? Where's that small paper sack?
Now three minutes left. Should we draw lots, to see who will go first?
We've had hard times, but made it the best. Could have been much worse.
Two minutes left, my lass and my lad. Now here he comes, your dad,
He's had hard days, sometimes goes that way, but now he looks quite glad.
And now sixty seconds, the moment beckons.
Forty-six, forty-five, now look alive!
Twenty-four, twenty-three, is that a pear tree?
Ten, nine, eight, you still gotta wait.
Gotta hesitate!
Three, two, one. Let's have some fun!
12 MINUTES TO CHRISTMAS
Michael Dyer
© 2009
Hey! Don't open your presents now. Twelve minutes still to go.
Dad hasn't gotten up. He's had a hard night. Movin' kind of slow.
Don't poke that box, near the chimney socks. Eleven minutes left.
And don't look so sad, so sad and bereft, just eleven minutes left.
Don't rip that tissue or act like you wish you could. Ten minutes still remain.
And don't touch that track or that little train. Ten minutes still remain.
And don't you dare peek, inside of that bag.
That's not your name, that's on the tag.
Nine minutes left, on my watch. No jumping or indoor hopscotch.
Eight minutes now, soon they will pass, and we'll have a Christmas blast.
Not much stuff beneath the tree, but still one lucky fam'ly.
And stop your fiddlin', with that ribbon.
Pullin' on it won't show what's hidden.
Seven minutes, still on the clock. Let's all sit quiet and talk.
Your Dad lost his work, as a bank clerk,
And with granny's fall, bills worry us all.
But six minutes still, must pass, before you can dive in at last.
Keep an eye on big brother, little sister dear.
With five minutes left, I now really fear,
To open, he's itchin', when I go in the kitchen.
Tell me. Ya won't be snitchin'.
Four minutes left, on the stove rack and right away I'm back.
But where's that doll? What looks out of wack? Where's that small paper sack?
Now three minutes left. Should we draw lots, to see who will go first?
We've had hard times, but made it the best. Could have been much worse.
Two minutes left, my lass and my lad. Now here he comes, your dad,
He's had hard days, sometimes goes that way, but now he looks quite glad.
And now sixty seconds, the moment beckons.
Forty-six, forty-five, now look alive!
Twenty-four, twenty-three, is that a pear tree?
Ten, nine, eight, you still gotta wait.
Gotta hesitate!
Three, two, one. Let's have some fun!
