Answer
|
Hello
|
Dan,
|
It's
|
Joe
|
here,
|
I
|
hope
|
you're
|
keeping
|
well
|
It's
|
the
|
twenty-first
|
of
|
December
|
and
|
now
|
they're
|
ringing
|
the
|
last
|
bells
|
If
|
I
|
get
|
good
|
behaviour
|
I'll
|
be
|
out
|
of
|
here
|
by
|
July
|
Won't
|
you
|
kiss
|
my
|
kids
|
on
|
Christmas
|
Day?
|
Please
|
don't
|
let
|
'em
|
cry
|
for
|
me
|
I
|
guess
|
|
Answer
|
the
|
brothers
|
are
|
driving
|
down
|
from
|
Queensland
|
and
|
Stella's
|
flying
|
in
|
from
|
the
|
coast
|
They
|
say
|
it's
|
gonna
|
be
|
a
|
hundred
|
degrees,
|
even
|
more
|
maybe,
|
but
|
that
|
won't
|
stop
|
the
|
roast
|
Who's
|
gonna
|
make
|
the
|
gravy
|
now?
|
I
|
bet
|
it
|
won't
|
taste
|
the
|
same
|
Just
|
add
|
flour,
|
salt,
|
a
|
little
|
red
|
|
Answer
|
wine
|
And
|
don't
|
forget
|
a
|
dollop
|
of
|
tomato
|
sauce
|
for
|
sweetness
|
and
|
that
|
extra
|
tang
|
And
|
give
|
my
|
love
|
to
|
Angus
|
and
|
to
|
Frank
|
and
|
Dolly
|
Tell
|
'em
|
all
|
I'm
|
sorry
|
I
|
screwed
|
up
|
this
|
time
|
And
|
look
|
after
|
Rita
|
I'll
|
be
|
thinking
|
of
|
her
|
early
|
Christmas
|
morning
|
When
|
I'm
|
standing
|
|
Answer
|
in
|
line
|
I
|
hear
|
Mary's
|
got
|
a
|
new
|
boyfriend
|
I
|
hope
|
he
|
can
|
hold
|
his
|
own
|
Do
|
you
|
remember
|
the
|
last
|
one?
|
What
|
was
|
his
|
name
|
again?
|
(Just
|
a
|
liitle
|
too
|
much
|
cologne)
|
And
|
Roger,
|
you
|
know
|
I'm
|
even
|
gonna
|
miss
|
Roger
|
'cause
|
there's
|
sure
|
as
|
hell
|
no-one
|
in
|
here
|
I
|
|
Answer
|
want
|
to
|
fight
|
Oh
|
praise
|
the
|
baby
|
Jesus,
|
have
|
a
|
merry
|
Christmas
|
I'm
|
really
|
gonna
|
miss
|
it,
|
all
|
the
|
treasure
|
and
|
the
|
trash
|
And
|
later
|
in
|
the
|
evening,
|
I
|
can
|
just
|
imagine,
|
you'll
|
put
|
on
|
Junior
|
Murvin
|
and
|
push
|
the
|
tables
|
back
|
And
|
you'll
|
dance
|
with
|
Rita
|
I
|
know
|
you
|
really
|
|
Answer
|
like
|
her
|
Just
|
don't
|
hold
|
her
|
too
|
close
|
Oh
|
brother
|
please
|
don't
|
stab
|
me
|
in
|
the
|
back
|
I
|
didn't
|
mean
|
to
|
say
|
that,
|
it's
|
just
|
my
|
mind
|
plays
|
up,
|
multiplies
|
each
|
matter,
|
turns
|
imagination
|
into
|
fact
|
You
|
know
|
I
|
love
|
her
|
badly,
|
she's
|
the
|
one
|
to
|
save
|
me
|
I'm
|
gonna
|
|
Answer
|
make
|
some
|
gravy
|
I'm
|
gonna
|
taste
|
the
|
fat
|
Tell
|
her
|
that
|
I'm
|
sorry
|
Yeah
|
I
|
love
|
her
|
badly
|
Tell
|
'em
|
all
|
I'm
|
sorry
|
And
|
kiss
|
the
|
sleepy
|
children
|
for
|
me
|
You
|
know
|
one
|
of
|
these
|
days
|
I'll
|
be
|
making
|
gravy
|
I'll
|
be
|
making
|
plenty
|
I'm
|
gonna
|
pay
|
'em
|
all
|
back
|
|