T'was the month after Christmas

T'was the month after Christmas, and all through the house
Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse;
The cookies I'd nibbled, the eggnog I had to taste,
At the holiday parties, had gone to my waste;

When I got on the scales, there arose such a number!
When I walked to the store, it was more like a lumber,
I'd remember the marvelous meals I had prepared,
The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared;

The wine and the rum balls, the bread and the cheese,
And the way I never said, "No thank you, please."
So, away with the last of the sour cream dip.
Get rid of the fruit cake and every cracker and chip!

I won't have hot biscuits or corn or pie,
I'll munch on a carrot, and quietly cry.
Every last bit of food I like must be banished,
Until all these extra pounds have vanished.

I'm hungry, I'm lonesome, and life is a bore,
But isn't that what January is for?
Unable to giggle, no more a riot,
Happy New Year to all, and to all a good diet!