my how your voices terribly ling
wish you'd clear off so i can sleep
not in the mood to hear you sing
you sound more like a flock of sheep
grumpy old man slammed his front door
the carol singers were unperturbed
carried on singing and baaing more
grumpy old man was more than disturbed
with bucket of water he soaked them all
they carried on singing as water poured
then grumpy old man felt very small
as he looked skywards he saw the Lord
what are you doing his voice did bellow
there carol singers you buffoon
your not at all a kind fellow
grumpy old man disturbed, and strewn
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem