The Party
Auntie Mabel is
Under the table,
Her besetting sin,
She likes her gin.
Full of remorse
In the morning of course,
She really oughter
Have stuck to water.

Uncle Perce
Is even worse,
He’s fine and dandy
Slurping brandy.
He thinks he can sing,
Like Sinatra or Bing,
He’s starting to roam,
Please take him home.

Cousin De Vere
Is sticking with beer,
Nor half as bad
As his drunken dad.
Not much fun
For an only son.
His dad thinks he’s skiving
But he’s doing the driving.

Young nephew Fred
Is out of his head,
It’s only the whisky
That’s making him frisky.
He’s flat on the floor,
Can’t take any more.
Just put him to bed,
That’s what his dad said.

Jane’s on the rum,
That’s why she’s come,
She’s really too tarty
To be at the party.
She’s passibly pretty
But not very witty,
Now she’s going too far,
Take her home in the car.

Relations are awful
Especially in-lawful,
There’s such a big crowd
And they’re all blooming loud,
I’ll soon start a riot
If they won’t be quiet,
I only asked them round for tea
To wish a “Happy Birthday” to me.