crucify the king
he cares for us no more
the gifts he gives are rotten
and ****** us at the core

we'll celebrate no longer
the birth immaculate
no one can believe it
she was not celibate

fear not my merry friends
there is no need to cry
new leadership we've found
you'll see him by and by

the burden that he carries
is the sack of gifts he'll bring
while suited in the crimson
that leaked out of the king

under the cross he'll leave
for every girl and boy
a reason to be selfish
and buy into his ploy

no need for guilt or penance
it's all come to a head
no need for soul salvation
let's play a game instead

so take my hand and see
the pleasure to be had
no need for self improvement
put your trust in this year's fad

I sold my soul
to the promise of you
and got the Devil
in return

this time of year
so they don't disappear
i use my vacation days

i sit in a haze
thinking of ways
to justify deep hibernation

or at least a migration
to a southern location
until the warm weather's return

but for now I must burn
the hours I earn
because I must use them

or lose them