My grandpa loves gnomes
They’re all over the house
Sitting by the mirror and useless combs
There might be one that’s a mouse.

Ill give you two guesses at his x-mas gifts.
And every vacation we find a station
That carries the friendly red hatted myths.
He gleefully owns whole generations.

Grandpa looks like a gnome himself.
This is where we think his joy stems.
He fits in too well with his porcelain wealth.

But grandma puts up with it.
‘cause the gnome light keeps her books lit.