You know you’ll pay top dollar The truth is plain to see

The clue is in the spelling of “F-A-Y-R-E”.

 

Cos whether “fayre” at Christmas Or whether “fayre” for crafts

They’ll try to charge you prices You’d otherwise think daft.

 

It started with my flapjack A favourite of mine

That with a cup of Breakfast Tea Cost £8.99.

 

But I am no slow learner And only buy what’s cheap

It’s said that I have got short arms And pockets that are deep.

 

So when my daughter eyed up rings On jewellery stalls I said,

“You’ll get some off your mother - Just wait until she’s dead”.

 

One stall sold hand-crafted soap At £15 a pack

But what’s the point when all I do Is shove it up my crack.

 

Some tables set out greetings cards - All glitter, bells and frills

But I shall not be buying them When e-mail’s cheaper still?

 

Another offered fairy lights Designed for Christmas cheer

But I buy mine at knock-down price By waiting till New Year.

 

And likewise Christmas puddings Costing a few quid;

I also wait till January - For presents for the kids.

 

You might think I’m just a Scrooge But all I’ll say’s “Beware!”

Never trust a market that Calls itself a “FAYRE”.