Dashing Through the Mall
Dashing through the mall with a charge card in my fist
Wondering why I ever wrote a Christmas present list
The jeans my daughter wanted were torn around the knees
I couldn't spend a hundred bucks although they'd sure to please
I found her a fuscia sweater, I know it is her size
I'm sure that she will show to me displeasure in her eyes
The lady said the plaid shawl would flatter any shape
I know my daughter's teen mouth will be hanging quite agape
Next year I'm not doing shopping for anyone I know
I'll save myself much heartache and probably lots of dough
Everyone is getting a holiday gift card
And that will be the final word from this over shopped out bard
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