On the eleventh day of Christmas,
My true love gave to me,
Eleven hours a-packing,
Ten renters renting,
Nine ways of paying,
Eight feet of ceiling,
Seven days of access,
Six weeks a-staying,
FIVE OLD BOX SPRINGS! (Thanks, true love)
Four falling lamps,
Three plastic bins,
Two pairs of gloves,
And a storage unit with a lock and key.
"Eleven Hours a-Packing"
I know what some of you are saying.
"ELEVEN HOURS of packing!--IS THAT ALL?"
"That's how long it took me just to clean out my refrigerator!"
Still others of you are saying, "Eleven hours of packing!--WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG? All I have is a sofa with no cushions, a chair with no seat and a table with no legs."
(You see? That's what happens when you hire the wrong moving company! But I digress.)
And a few of you are saying, "Eleven hours of packing? What a coincidence! Why, that's EXACTLY how long it took me to pack for my last move! What an insightful song this is!" (Music to my ears)
The rest of you naysayers (all three of you) are saying, "Eleven hours a-packing?--what a RIDICULOUSLY LAME, UNIMAGINATIVE verse to put in a Christmas song!"
Ah, but that's where you're wrong, my friend...
This song is all about STORAGE, remember? (Check the title again!)
Anyway, we'll be back for Day Twelve and get this thing over with.
Your Manager, Paul
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