Fizzy Christmas
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
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Copyright © Danny Sroda | Year Posted 2013
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