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Twas the night before Christmas and all through St. Ives,
Were dozens of British kiddies running for their lives
The fire alarm had been pulled and everyone was scared
But the children all felt safe with St Nicolas there;
But out of a back room there arose such a clatter,
When Santa immerged with no beard and noticeably less fatter.
His eyes were wild as he looked for an exit,
Like Teresa May panicking at the collapse of Brexit.
Then, what in our disbelieving ears did we hear
But a pissed off old elf yelling “Get the F out of here”
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his toe,
As he pushed kids and toddlers into banks of fake snow.
He sprang to his sleigh, a lime green Dodge Dart,
While cries and despair filled St. Ives Christmas Mart
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove on away,
HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, STAY THE F*** OUT MY WAY!
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