Advent, Advent, the wreath is done,
you light the candles, one by one.
First one, then two, then three, then four,
then Santa falls through your front door.
He's wasted, drugged and even more,
is pissing on your kitchen floor.
He barfs on your small christmas tree
and dies from failed heart surgery.
Kids traumatized, tree reeks of booze,
a dozen reindeers on the loose.
When all is settled, coroner gone,
delightful evening is yet to come.
The presents are, at least, in shape,
a half month's salary is on the plate.
Kids don't agree and soon it's due,
nothing what they wished came true.
You eat in silence, go to bed,
and wish that fucking christmas dead.
And if you ever light a fifth,
you understand christmas' a myth.
Edited by Raziel on 2022/1/30 23:15:33
Edited by Raziel on 2022/1/31 0:25:04
Edited by Raziel on 2022/6/21 13:52:13