A Christmas Carol
Once upon a time,
In a land not far from here;
There lived a little flurry of mall Santas,
Without any Christmas cheer.
In a land not far from here;
There lived a little flurry of mall Santas,
Without any Christmas cheer.
From gin-soaked whiskers
Plucked fresh from darkened streets;
To hastily bandaged bootstraps
That disguised disfigured feet.
Plucked fresh from darkened streets;
To hastily bandaged bootstraps
That disguised disfigured feet.
They swayed about in Santa’s Kingdom
Asking children what they did for fun;
With a hand that was held a little too tight
And a voice that smelled of rum.
Asking children what they did for fun;
With a hand that was held a little too tight
And a voice that smelled of rum.
Although children cry and parents bemoan
This sordid depravity of cheer;
We can still breathe a collective sigh
That it comes only once per year.
This sordid depravity of cheer;
We can still breathe a collective sigh
That it comes only once per year.
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