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Getting too commercialized, stupid gifts like sox and ties Putting on all kinds of weight, eating nuts and fruit cake Smiling at the relatives, smacking all their bratty kids Dealing with obnoxious clerks, while pushy shoppers act like jerks
Cooking, cleaning, wrapping gifts, feels like I work a second shift The pressure mounts on what to buy, expensive things, I want to cry Department store’s Santa Claus, Ho-ho-hoing my lost cause They put their Displays out too soon, seems like Christmas starts in June
They move their carts all through the aisles The prissy girl says “that’s not my style” The tried on rejects lay on the floor With an armload of gifts she checks out of the store…
Depression now starts setting in, give me that gift wrapped bottle of gin The streets become roads of rage, put those drivers in a cage Outside my neighbor’s blinking lights, blinding me with elves in tights Can’t wait to get them up they say, then they don’t take them down till May Who am I to protest you, and criticize the things you do Well I point out all these flaws, because my name is Santa Claus
[This message has been edited by Marty Helly (edited 06-08-2006).]
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"I have dreamed a lot of things that have come true for other people, because I didn't take the action to make them come true for me." –Brian Austin Whitney
