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