It's Christmas Day Lyrics - R. Kelly

Day One 

Dear Nuala, 

Thank you very much for your lovely present of a partridge in a pear-tree 

We're getting the hang of feeding the partridge now, 

Although it was difficult at first to win its confidence 

It bit the mother rather badly on the hand 

But they're good friends now and we're keeping the pear-tree indoors in a bucket 

Thank you again 

Yours affectionately, Gobnait O'Lúnasa 

Day Two 

Dear Nuala, 

I cannot tell you how surprised we were to hear from you so soon again and to receive your lovely present of two turtle doves 

You really are too kind 

At first the partridge was very jealous 

And suspicious of the doves and they had a terrible row the night the doves arrived 

We had to send for the vet but the birds are okay again 

And the stitches are due to some out in a week or two 

The vet's bill was 8 but the mother is over her annoyance now 

And the doves and the partridge are watching the telly from the pear-tree as I write Yours ever, Gobnait 

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Day Three 

Dear Nuala, 

We must be foremost in your thoughts 

I had only posted my letter when the three French hens arrived 

There was another sort-out between the hens and the doves, 

Who sided with the partridge, and the vet had to be sent for again 

The mother was raging because the bill was 16 this time 

But she has almost cooled down 

However, the fact that the birds' droppings keep falling down 

On her hair whilen she's watching the telly, doesn't help matters 

Thanking you for your kindness 

I remain, your Gobnait 

Day Four 

Dear Nuala, 

You mustn't have received my last letter when you were sending us the four calling birds There was pandemonium in the pear-tree again last night and the vet's bill was 32 

The mother is on sedation as I write 

I know you meant no harm and remain your close friend 

Gobnauit 

Photos 

Day Five 

Nuala, 

Your generosity knows no bounds 

Five gold rings! When the parcel arrived I was scared stiff that it might be more birds, because the smell in the living-room is atrocious 

However, I don't want to seem ungrateful for the beautiful rings 

Your affectionate friend, Gobnait 

Day Six 

Nuala, 

What are you trying to do to us? It isn't that we don't appreciate your generosity 

But the six geese have not alone nearly murdered the calling birds 

But they laid their eggs on top of the vet's head 

From the pear-tree and his bill was 68 in cash! 

My mother is munching 60 grains of Valium a day 

And talking to herself in a most alarming way 

You must keep your feelings for me in check 

Gobnait 

Day Seven 

Nuala, 

We are not amused by your little joke 

Seven swans-a-swimming is a most romantic idea but not in the bath of a private house 

We cannot use the bathroom now because they've gone completely savage 

And rush the door every time we try to enter 

If things go on this way, the mother and I will smell as bad as the living-room carpet Please lay off It is not fair 

Gobnait 

Day Eight 

Nuala, 

Who the hell do you think gave you the right to send eight, 

Hefty maids-a-milking here, to eat us out of house and home? 

Their cattle are all over the front lawn 

And have trampled the hell out of the mother's rose-beds 

The swans invaded the living-room in a sneak attack 

And the ensuing battle between them and the calling birds, 

Turtle doves, French hens and partridge make the battle 

Of the Somme seem like Wanderly Wagon 

The mother is on a bottle of whiskey a day, as well as the sixty grains of Valium 

I'm very annoyed with you 

Gobnait 

Day Nine 

Listen you looser! 

There's enough pandemonium in this place night and day without nine drummers drumming, while the eight flaming maids-a-milking are beating my poor, old alcoholic mother out of her own kitchen and gobbling everything in sight 

I'm warning you, you're making an enemy of me 

Gobnait 

Day Ten 

Listen manure-face, 

I hope you'll be haunted by the strains of ten pipers piping 

Which you sent to torment us last night 

They were aided in their evil work by those maniac drummers 

And it wasn't a pleasant sight to look out the window 

And see eight hefty maids-a-milking pogo-ing around with the ensuing punk-rock uproar 

My mother has just finished her third bottle of whiskey, 

On top of a hundred and twenty four grains of Valium 

You'll get yours! 

Gobnait O'Lúnasa 

Day Eleven 

You have scandalized my mother, you dirty Jezebel, 

It was bad enough to have eight maids-a-milking dancing to punk music on the front lawn but they've now been joined by your friends the eleven Lords-a-leaping 

And the antics of the whole lot of them would leave 

The most decadent days of the Roman Empire looking like Outlook 

I'll get you yet, you loud bag! 

Day Twelve 

Listen slurry head, 

You have ruined our lives 

The twelve maidens dancing turned up last night 

And beat the living daylights out of the eight maids-a-milking, 

'Cause they found them carrying on with the eleven Lords-a-leaping 

Meanwhile, the swans got out of the living-room, 

Where they'd been hiding since the big battle, 

And savaged hell out of the Lords and all the Maids 

There were eight ambulances here last night, and the local Civil Defence as well 

The mother is in a home for the bewildered 

And I'm sitting here, up to my neck in birds' droppings, empty whiskey 

And Valium bottles, birds' blood and feathers, 

While the flaming cows eat the leaves off the pear-tree 

I'm a broken man.