Dear Santa

Of Santa there is neither sight or sound

It’s turned midnight, and he’s not around

I’m wondering what sins that I committed

To make me a pariah, one of the omitted.

Dear Santa, I’m condemned without a trial

And I am very sad that this is your style

That you’d simply strike me off your list

Because earlier this year I got a bit pissed.

Well if that’s going to be your fucking attitude

I’m going to get shit-faced and act really rude

Sing loud songs and upset my neighbour above

As between the two of us there is a lack of love.

So, as far as next year is fucking concerned

I don’t give a monkey’s if again I’m spurned

As my faith in you is being seriously tested

I hope next Xmas Eve the skies are congested.