T'was the night before Christmas- Old Santa was pissed.
He cussed out the elves and threw down his list.
Miserable little brats, ungrateful little jerks.
I have a good mind to scrap the whole works.
I've busted my ass for damn near a year.
Instead of "Thanks Santa" - what do I hear?
The old lady bitches cause I work late at night . . .
The elves want more money - The reindeer all fight.
Rudolph got drunk and goosed all the maids.
Donner is pregnant and Vixen has AIDS.
And just when I thought that things would get better,
Those a$$holes from IRS sent me a letter.
They say I owe taxes - if that ain't damn funny.
Who the hell ever sent Santa Claus any money?
And the kids these days - they all are the pits.
They want the impossible. Those mean little sh*ts.
I spent a whole year making wagons and sleds,
Assembling dolls . . . their arms, legs and heads.
I made a ton of yoyos - No request for them . . .
They want computers and robots . . . they think I'm IBM.
Flying through the air . . . dodging the trees.
Falling down chimneys and skinning my knees.
I'm quitting this job . . . there's just no enjoyment.
I'll sit on my fat ass and draw unemployment!
There's no Christmas this year . . . now you know the reason . . .
I found me a blonde. I'm going south for the season!
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