Chestnuts roasting by an open fire
Stories gather round to tell
I almost sat too close to it
And roasted mine as well

Away in a manger
No crib for a bed
All the nice hay
Smells of ***** instead

Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Make the yuletide gay
But if Santa's eyeing up your chimney
Send him on his way

I'm dreaming of a quiet Christmas
With every panic out of sight
May your days be merry and bright
And may all your Christmases be just right