"You better watch out
you better not cry
better not pout
I'm telling you why
Santa Clause is coming to town

He's making a list,
and checking it twice;
Gonna find out who's naughty and nice.
Santa Claus is coming to town

He sees you when you're sleeping
He knows when you're awake
He knows if you've been bad or good
So be good for goodness sake!"

Like a crack addict,
The poet chases a cheap high

And when it wears off,
Feeling worse than before,
He’ll do anything for another fix
Which means writing down
Whatever ****** pops
Into his head

Sad

Open a book
To any old place
And have a look

Chances are,
You’ll find something
Of value

One taste of that
Heavenly meatloaf
And, for a moment,
It all became clear to me

And I forgot about
The three days I spent
In the Iron Maiden

Has a wonderfully
***** mind.

I'm surprised she
wasn't born a boy.