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”.