Here Cums Santa Claus, Here Cums Santa Claus.

I knew that fucker's beard was fake, see the size of that clock? I said clock ya dirty shites, the one on his wrist, I bet the Elves never made that.


You better watch out you better not cry, you better not pout I'm telling you why, I'll cut yer face off, this is our little secret.

Santa is a creepy fucker, he works one night a year, he lives with his wife and big eared midgets, gang bang central no doubt, he probably eats out of depression at his work situation, I mean how do you leave a post like that? you're Saint fucking Nicholas its destiny or something and no referring to shitty Tim Allen films for the answer, this is the real world people, get with it. A big fat sweaty man that can enter your home at will and if you don't leave milk and cookies his blood sugar gets low and he shits under your tree and tea bags your tooth brushes.

He has a list of children, its like a pedophile's dream come true, he spies on you too, he sees you when you're sleeping, he knows when you're in the shower, he knows if you've been bad or good, so you better be good because if he doesn't get his you don't get yours.
With his little tin horn hes going to rooty toot toot you, in the ass.

Santa's a busy man, he has no time to play, oh yeah, this is business, hes got millions of stockings to fill, that's a euphemism for something of that I'm sure.

Hes got a very big bag and he wants to empty it. Parents, don't sell your child's innocence for a doll or a drum, its not like Santa will ever be giving out Playstations, his toys are quaint , wooden and shite, fruity looking things you wouldn't even buy to help out the Africans at Oxfam. I remember when Santa visited me, he was actually there for my brother as I was bad, it was disgusting but that big nosed bastard Rudolf held a knife on me, Santa squirted his money shot of forgetfulness over my brother , on his way past me he sneered and bounced a lump of coal off me head.

Every year I waited outside my own children's bedroom door. I'd usually doze off and wake to find my face all wet and the shells in my shotgun had been fired but I couldn't remember anything else. I always had a cut on my head and a lump of coal lying beside me.

Happy fucking Christmas.