Lump of Coal

In two thousand and one, I carried my sack,
and I lived the gay life of a Santa
From the Christmas parade to the Wallmart charade
I was polite to the brats 'cause you haveta
Then the thirtieth kid, who knows mom doesn't care
Whose dad is too tired, or just isn't there
He kicked my poor elf and he yanked on my hair.
And I wondered just what it was for.

And the store said "bring in the children",
"Bring in their mommies and dads"
We'll sell them the gear, we're pushing this year
We don't care if they've been good or bad.

How well I remember that terrible day
When the crowds passed the fire regulations
I begged them to fire me, send me away
But they showed me my work stipulations
"No matter how boorish, how cruel, how sick
how badly behaved with their new hockey stick
the kids are the problem of jolly Saint Nick
And they marched me off to 'my village'.

chrs

So in my workshop I tried to survive
When the sporting goods children came calling
Fishing lures, baseballs, and something alive
And I dodged all the abuse that was falling.
I watched 'little angels' get dropped off in line
And turn into devils in new record time
I watched my elf's back and I prayed he'd watch mine
Prayed to gods, too many mention.

chrs

If I ever have children I'll tell them the truth
That we buy them nice gifts cause we love them.
And me and my wife will remember our youth
And spend time with our kids till we trust them
Maybe that special new toy they wont see
When we gather together to sit at the tree
But I will have them, and they will have me
And this Santa will teach them of Christmas.

Chrs:

Words: Bo Vandenberg with apologies to Eric Bogle who deserves all the credit and no blame.