I believe I'm a fly

Would you go nuts for me?!

Friends, don't throw them away Don't let your heart lead you astray

It's Christmas at Rhubarb Bomb Bomb Bomb Dicky Dicky Dee Bomb Bomb Dicky Dicky Doo Bomb Bomb Knacka Knacka Knee Bomb Bomb Wacka Chacka Woo Bomb Bomb Dicky Dicky Dee Bomb Bomb Dicky Dicky Doo It's Christmas at Rhubarb Bomb I want a pig in a jacket made of pig and a Toblerone that's too big And if I ask Santa for a bike, a Grifter is the one that I would like I never want to see another sprout, I just don't see what they're about For a pint at The Hop or a glass of mulled wine New Year at The Inns with Auld Lang Syne A wee little bot with an elf like hat is searching the streets like a Kirkgate rat For a festive cheer and a ding-a-ling dong It's Christmas at Rhubarb Bomb There's Greg and Jarv and Rob Dee from Lofthouse Gate not Galilee No gold or frankincense or Myrrh but 3 wise men I would concur Putting a smile back in WF1, on Westgate Christmas has begun There's a party on at Havercroft Rise where a girl with Wakey Donny eyes Is hoping for a kiss in the mistletoe but the plantman knows where the plants wont grow I'm ready for the last bus, 195, get me out of here whilst I'm alive For a festive cheer and a ding-a-ling dong It's Christmas at Rhubarb Bomb Christmas spirit is across the nation, listen up people to our Christmas creation In this city there's a funny decoration, 'Welcome to Wakefield' on the bridge near the station The 25th and we've all got a thirst on, drinking port with my man Keith Burton Too many drinks and we haven't got our shirt on Stumblin' up Westgate we're gonna get a hurt on! Greg's made dinner, the table looks dapper Turkey spuds and sprouts for a Wakefield gangster Rob Dee's beard makes him look like Santa Troubadour boys with a Christmas cracker

One had a poo, the other a ukelele

Old Twat