
Christmas time is here, by Golly;	Kill the turkeys, ducks and chickens;
Disapproval would be folly;		Mix the punch, drag out the Dickens;
Deck the halls with hunks of holly;	Even though the prospect sickens,
Fill the cup and don't say when...	Brother, here we go again.

On Christmas day, you can't get sore;	Relations sparing no expense'll,
Your fellow man you must adore;		Send some useless old utensil,
There's time to rob him all the more,	Or a matching pen and pencil,
The other three hundred and sixty-four!	Just the thing I need... how nice.

It doesn't matter how sincere		Hark The Herald-Tribune sings,
It is, nor how heartfelt the spirit;	Advertising wondrous things.
Sentiment will not endear it;		God Rest Ye Merry Merchants,
What's important is... the price.	May you make the Yuletide pay.
					Angels We Have Heard On High,
Let the raucous sleighbells jingle;	Tell us to go out and buy.
Hail our dear old friend, Kris Kringle,	Sooooo...
Driving his reindeer across the sky,
Don't stand underneath when they fly by!
		-- Tom Lehrer
