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It's Christmastime There's no need to stuff your face At Christmastime, you can still be a member of the human race And in your world of plenty you can spread a smile of joy Have a family dinner at home this Christmastime
But say a prayer
Pray for the other ones At Christmastime it's hard for them when you're having fun There's a place that's called a kitchen And it's a place of dread and fear Where the only fluid flowing is blood and sweat and tears And the dinner gongs that ring are the clanging chimes of doom Well tonight thank god it's them instead of you
And chefs won't be spending time at home this Christmastime The greatest gift they'll get this year is sleep (Oooh) And no one ever tips They just demand extra chips Do chefs know it's Christmastime at all?
(Here's to you) raise a glass to everyone (Here's to them) Slaving to get your dinners done Do chefs know it's Christmastime at all?
Feed yourselves Give the chefs a Christmas break
Feed yourselves Give the chefs a Christmas break
[Repeat to fade or until chefs die of exhaustion].
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