Chipmunks roasting
on an open fire.
Their eyes bulge out,
as they explode.

Machine gun fire,
opens up on the crowd.
And folks fall down
like dominos.

Everybody knows,
an uzi and some hand grenades,
help to make the season bright.

Tiny tots,
bound and gagged in their beds,
will find it hard to sleep, tonight.

They know that Santa's
on his way.
He's got a chainsaw,
and he's gonna make 'em pay.

And every mother's child
is gonna spy,
To watch their Daddy shoot
those reindeer from the sky...

And so I'm offering
this simple phrase.
For the tots by now,
are turning blue.

Although it's been said
many times many ways...

Merry Christmas.... to You.