Not That Kind of Christmas Treat

Verse 1
I slipped you a card with a wink and a grin,
You opened it up thinking, “Phwoar… I’m in.”
You saw the word “blowjob” shining so bright,
And your eyes lit up like Christmas lights.

Pre-Chorus
But hold your reins, love — steady that sleigh,
It’s Christmas after all… and I might make you wait.
Don’t get too excited, don’t lose control —
There’s a tiny correction you need to behold…

Chorus
This Christmas, baby, just look at the note:
Your present tonight is… the TV remote.
I know you thought you were getting a festive surprise,
Something rude, something fun, something nice between your thighs.
But no, my love — don’t pout, don’t gloat,
Your Christmas treat tonight is… the bloody remote.

Verse 2
I watched your face drop — babe, priceless scene,
Like a kid unwrapping socks at seventeen.
But don’t be dramatic, don’t start a fight,
You can still turn me on… just not that way tonight.

Pre-Chorus
I’ll cuddle you close, I’ll pour you a drink,
And maybe — maybe — I’ll let you think
That next Christmas Eve, if you’re good as gold,
You might get the treat that the card almost told.

Chorus
But this Christmas, baby, read what I wrote:
Your present tonight is… the TV remote.
I know you dreamed of something a bit more obscene,
A festive reward for keeping things clean.
But no, my love — don’t rock the boat,
Your Christmas magic tonight is… the TV remote.

Bridge
So sit back, relax, pick a film you like,
We’ll snuggle on the sofa — no need to strike.
And who knows later, if you play it right…
I might reconsider your card’s crossed-out delight…

Final Chorus
But for now, babe — behave, take note:
Your present tonight is… the TV remote.
You thought you’d get lucky, you thought you’d get played,
But Santa’s not the only one pulling swaps on Christmas Day.
So no, my love — don’t moan, don’t quote —
This Christmas, all you’re getting is… the bloody remote.