Santa’s Dead
Remove the ivy from your door
Tell the children Christmas is no more
Take down the decs, the tree and holly –
‘Tis NOT the season to be jolly.
No mistletoe kisses for plain Jane –
She’ll be singing a mournful refrain.
No presents under the tree for Mark –
He’ll be weeping softly in the dark.
Christmas crackers rot in their boxes
Mince pies thrown out for the foxes
Carol singers struck down with laryngitis –
Everyone knows what a sad sight that is.
Children cannot be consoled
Parents wretched, tired and old
Everyone trying to get into their head
The sad news: FATHER CHRISTMAS IS DEAD.
The church bells toll a funeral sound as
Santa lies lifeless in the ground,
His reindeers slaughtered, their carcasses raw –
And the elves won’t be found until the next thaw.
Santa’s dead, on Christmas Eve
Santa’s dead, the whole universe grieves
Santa’s dead, now his grave is filled in
Santa’s dead – AND IT WAS ME THAT KILLED HIM.
