Christmas Day 98

The smoke of the barby, the smell of frying meat And even in the shade we perspire in the heat And I scratch where the mozzies are biting my feet Far distant from Ireland, North Cork and Millstreet. The temperatures soaring towards forty degrees And 30 at least in the shade of the trees, The cool change is coming the weather man say But the cool change this moment seems further away. Old Dave from his esky he pulled a cold beer Merry Christmas to all and a happy new year In Belgrave it may be our last Christmas Day But life will go on and the good memories will stay. He ate a black sausage the last on his plate This will be our last Christmas together mate But next Christmas by the smoky barbecue I will drink a cold beer and I'll remember you. My thoughts went to far off and to long ago When Clara near Millstreet wore his hat of snow And the fields by the farmhouse from frost looking gray And cows in the cow byre were bellowing for hay. And on Christmas Day evening with food on our plate The old men told stories around the firegrate They told of their childhood and old songs they sung Of Christmas in Ireland back when they were young. The temperatures soaring towards forty degrees And it's well over thirty in the shade of the trees And old Dave he perspires as he drinks a cold beer A merry Christmas to all and a happy New Year.