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SANTA ISN’T SANTA
Words by Keith Potger, Melody can be Dustman
© 2020 Circle Music Publishing




Oh Santa isn’t Santa, He’s really Chaplain Jim
And mummy said that I should be especially scared of him.
She’s right because he took me round behind the choir stalls
He tried to touch my willy so I kicked him in the balls.

Oh Santa isn’t Santa, he’s really Brother Bert
And underneath his cassock he wears panties and a skirt.
He adds a bra on Sundays when he serves the bread and wine.
The Pope is not too happy but the cardinals say: “That’s fine.”

Oh Santa isn’t Santa, he’s really Bishop Leigh.
He fondles little kiddies while they’re sitting on his knee.
He tries to act like he’s just some old ordinary chap
But two kids got so frightened that they pissed right in his lap.

Oh Santa isn’t Santa, he’s really Deacon Don.
He saw my sister all alone and tried to get it on.
She knew his reputation coz he creeps around so much.
She waited ‘til he grabbed her, then she kneed him in the crotch.

Oh Santa isn’t Santa, he’s really Cardinal Paul.
He knows about what’s going on but he does bugger all.
My dad said: ”F*ck me sideways! This is well beyond the pale,
And all those bloody clerics should be sent to bloody jail!”

So Santa isn’t Santa, I think it’s such a shame
That he’s become commercial playing crass commercial games.
They say that Christmas is a time for prayer and fun and smiles,
But some religious orders are a club for pedophiles.