Dream Gig

“Santa’s a zombie
His suit is blood red
Ms. Clause is a gorgon
The elves are undead
The reindeers are werewolves
It’s truly insane
You best leave him cookies
Of chocolate chip brains
And dedicate all
Of your personal effects
Because, oh what fun
It looks like your next!”

And look at him there
All jolly and fat
Best to bring up
The next little brat

“Ms. Clause sleeps around
And Santa’s on drugs
The elves all sniff glue
The reindeers are thugs
But all should be fine
As long as you see
Your partridge’s securely
Tied to your pear tree
Those five golden rings
Are a slight concern
And those milking maids…
Of fun, it’s your turn”

And heinous those jingle bells
Just keep on jingling
Here comes another
He’s already sniveling

“Oh my dear boy
Tears fall from your eyes
Would you like to tell
This dear old elf why?
Not good this year?
Blackness in your soul?
Well you’ll get off easy
With one lump of coal
Cause now Santa’s eating
All of the bad kids
Look it’s your turn
His teeth sure look big”

The joys of the season
Are mine to behold
This elf at the mall thing
Just never gets old

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75 thoughts on “Dream Gig

  1. Ooh, do we have a “Santa” (shh. . . Zombie) who can eliminate those dreadful but attractive, “Twilight” toys, DVD and posters?! I will prefer joining forces if you keep the chocolate flavored brains if I get a taste of β™‘ Baileys Irish Cream coffee brains, Marissa! πŸ™‚

The Blood Trail Starts Here...

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