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Fizzy Christmas By Danny Sroda There is a story which has been untold Which I cannot any more withhold It's about a man who you all know Who lives out in the land of snow Father Christmas was his name Until that episode of shame When he started wearing all that red And he became Santa instead I wonder if you've ever thought If not I think you really ought To consider why he made this change If you think about it, it's quite strange One day he was a fairy tale Until his agent made a sale Like David Beckham, he was sold To the ones who promised lots of gold So he changed his name and changed his clothes He was dictated to by those Who thought their business could cash in On Santa's warm and friendly grin Before he knew it he was cloned When he read the contract how he groaned What have I done? the old man said I must have sawdust in my head They've got me by the crystal balls In all the schools and shopping malls There's a fellow with a clip-on beard Who all the children think is weird They know it's not the real me But still they sit upon his knee So they can humour mum and dad And show them it's no passing fad And that they always will believe But they know it's really uncle Steve Who's dressed up in those silly clothes They can recognise his big red nose Dad says it comes from too much beer He looks like Rudolph the Reindeer While those impostors take my place I have to work a crazy pace I've only got one Christmas Eve To make certain that I will achieve This mammoth task that lies ahead While all the children are in bed Seven billion homes in just one night Do you think I get some strange delight? In driving through the sleet and snow In temperatures fourteen below Poor Rudolph dreads it every year So do the other eight reindeer Delivering seven billion gifts Through avalanches and snow drifts Can be a pretty tricky feat When at every house we have to eat A carrot and a large mince pie And if I drank the brandy I would die Still I suppose it could be worse Just think if it was in reverse If I didn't get a tasty treat No carrot for Rudolph to eat We'd have to go to Pizza Hut And then the boss would kick my butt He'd refer me to the HR clerk For going AWOL whilst at work So I need to get my conscience clear My image rights have cost me dear It was making me uptight and stressed So with this letter I've confessed You see I am just like the rest In the rat-race and depressed facebook.com/alchemyofwords to read the rest!
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