Winter Of Love

'Tis the season for reckless folly
To deck Mr Hall from Accounts
For showing you how his sausage rolls

'Tis the season for making out
You've a large and loving family
With perhaps the odd eccentric

Or that if you haven't
You totally don't mind

Remember to on no account be alone
Or desperate

'Tis the season when the walk of shame
Leaves footprints in the snow