A winter's day on the 25th, December,
I have presents.
Oh, boy look at this one. Oh, what could it be?
Call Of Duty 2 or a new MP3.

What's this? A rock?
Says here it's "fruitcake".

What on Earth?
How the hell can I eat this?
My knife won't penitrate.
This big old hunk of matter, implanted with nuts.
Whoever sent me this must hate my guts.

Looks like a rock,
But it is "fruitcake."

So, what's it for?
Cause I sure as hell can't eat it.
I think it's some fancy doorstop.
Is it some decoration you put in your backyard?
Whoever invented this is was a retard.

This bloody rock,
That they call "fruitcake."

Best be polite,
And at least try a wee bite.
Well, I suppose it won't kill me.
Took a little bite.
Crushed eah pearly white.
My dentist has been doing flips all day.

Cause of this rock,
Er, I mean fruitcake.

And my jaw is in pain.
And my stomach wants to cry.