Ho, ho, ho, and a bottle of rum

Santa's stressed out
As the holiday season
Draws near
He's been doing
The same job
Now going
On two thousand years
He's got pains
In his brain
And chimney scars
Ccover his buns
He hates to admit it
But Xmas
Is more work than fun

He needs a vacation
From bad decorations
And snow
Mr. Claus
Has a has escape plans
A secret
That only he knows
Beaches
And palm trees
Appear night
And day in his dreams
A break from his wife
Half-frozen in life
The elves
And that damn
Reindeer team

Ho, ho, ho
And a bottle of rum
Santa's run off
To the Caribbean
He thinks
About boat drinks
And fun in the sun
Ho, ho, ho
And a bottle of rum

Plastic creations
And crass exploitations
Aren't good
He wants to go back
To simple toys
Made out of wood
Just for the weekend
He's like
To be Peter Pan
Get out
Of his Long Johns
And dance
With a sword
In the sand

Ho, ho, ho
And a bottle of rum
Santa's off
To the Caribbean
Marimbas, calimbas
He's playing
Steel drums
Ho, ho, ho
And a bottle of rum

Ho, ho, ho
And a bottle of rum
Santa's off
To the Caribbean
A week in the tropics
And he'll be alright
Sporting a tan
As he rides
Out of sight

Merry Christmas to all
And to all good night