Twelve Days Of Christmas

On the first day, my true love said sweetly,
'When again are you going to love me?'
on the third day, still not consummated, 
maybe the whole thing was overrated.

On the fifth day, there were five gold rings,
but I didn't answer any of them,
on the seventh day, a lot of leaping around,
and then just spoke to two calling birds.

On the ninth day, I cut the pear tree down,
and a scabby partridge fluttered out of it,
on the eleventh day, there were ladies waiting,
must have been those four French hens.

On the twelth day, I eventually agreed,
but then she finally said: 'Don't worry, no need.'