Never mess with Santa's booze, nor fiddle with his pies,
The Christmas spirit's lacking, if greed shows in one's eyes.
So, covet not your neighbour's tot, his sweet meats; let them be.
On Christmas Day it doesn't pay to steal, as you will see.
For Santa can be tetchy, he don't like those who sin.
And if you're bad, your hoped for pressie winds up in the bin.
He punishes the sinners, or so I have been told;
That Ho, Ho, Ho can grate a bit, when all you get is coal.
(Though, in the cruel midwinter, when snow lies deep and thick,
A lump of coke or nutty slack can ease your pain a bit).
But Rudolph crossed the rubicon, he drank all Santa's rum,
And then he tried to get it on with poor old Santa's mum!
For such a heinous deviant, well, coal will never do
The punishment for these foul acts - swift, permanent, and true.
And this is how the naughty reindeer came to lose his head,
He'll never pull the sleigh again, just holds your hat instead.