Phil got a job in security
At his local shopping centre.
Phil had always been enthralled by malls
So he’d never been contenter.

He loved his job, the pay, the power,
To be lord of all he surveyed,
Until that day, in mid-July,
When the Christmas songs were played.

At first he found it quite funny,
Imagine, Christmas in July!
But his tolerance began to wane
As the days and months went by.

August, September, came and went,
As did October and November,
And in all that time, a Yule-free day
Was not something he could remember.

By December, Phil was a bag of nerves,
Had his fill of Elton and Noddy and Roy.
He couldn’t bear to hear one more song
Being piped through the tannoy.

Phil wanted to roast Santa’s chestnuts,
Deliver Rudolph a bloodied nose
Torture Cliff and hear him whine
Whilst he chopped off his mistletoes.

In the end it was little Aled Jones
Who tipped Phil over the edge,
Walking in the air for the first and last time
He stepped off from the mall roof ledge.