Written by: Brian Faulkner

O joyous Love-Of-Things Day,
O LOt Day, coming near,
I've bought a lot
To give a lot,
To lots of friends so dear.

And lots are coming my way,
Of flashing things so good,
And in a lot
I'll take a lot,
Like every Lot-man should.

For I'm a Lot-man, it is true,
I love a lot the things I do;
I love a lot of each live day
I work a lot for my loved pay.

I plan a lot for coming dawn,
With lots of profits piliong on;
I think a lot 'bout doing right
For all my keenest joys so white;
And then I stand with hands on hips,
A smile of pride upon my lips;
I see a lot of things around
That men have stood up on the ground,
A lot of towers, lots of cars,
And lots of spaceships aimed for Mars;
A lot of music moves me, whole,
And fills me lots with beauty's soul,
And lots of lines of happy poems
Come skipping through from sunny tomes,
And inspiration, lots on lots,
Grabs me with its perkling plots,
Till I, a real-man, sing my praise
To Merry Lot-mas all my days!

O Merry Lot-mas, made by men,
Bring them lots of joy again!
And Merry Lot-man, man that's me,
Make your lot prosperity!