Santa

As I went slogging thru snow and sleet
I caught him sitting on hands and feet,
Just sitting there doing nothing at all;
And so I decided, best give him a call;
I said, dear Santa, what can this bode,
Is it not now time you began to load;
He said, can't you see that I'm on strike,
I'll do as I please and damn well like;
But I said, get up and grease those skids
And visit all of those good honest kids;
I'll neither do it nor wish that I had,
He said, because the world is so bad;
But no, I said, for the world is good,
It's simply that you have misunderstood,
Get off your butt and onto your sleigh
And out and about and well under weigh;
I tried to make it quite plain and clear
That he should up and harness his deer
And make for happiness round the world;
You should have heard the epithet hurled
At my poor head....what else can I say,
If dear old Santa doesn't come your way
It is not my fault, for I really tried
To get him up and out on his ride;
It's just that he doesn't understand
How good you all are across the land.